


A Place To Call Home

by geekasaur1380



Category: Achilles - Fandom, AchillesXPatroclus, Patrochilles - Fandom, Patroclus - Fandom, PatroclusXAchilles, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Abuse, Achilles - Freeform, Achilles/Patroclus - Freeform, AchillesXPatroclus - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Did i mention this is a bit cheesy, Falling In Love, Fear, Flashbacks, Fluff, Guilt, Hector - Freeform, Kindness, Love Confessions, M/M, Modern, Modern AU, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Patroclus - Freeform, Patroclus has trauma, PatroclusXAchilles - Freeform, Romance, Sex, and there is drama, briseis - Freeform, caring achilles, city, college drop out Achilles, happiness, happy chapters, homeless patroclus, light/dark, m/m - Freeform, patrochilles - Freeform, relationships, sad chapters, thetis - Freeform, traumatic flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekasaur1380/pseuds/geekasaur1380
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Patroclus finally turns Eighteen, he runs away from his terrible home life and heads out for the big city to find a better future. What he doesn't expect is becoming homeless for a month with no place to work! His life pretty much sucks until the golden son of a rich hotel owner comes shinning into his life and flips his world upside down and inside out! This is a story of love, hope, and other cheesy things that make life great! But with every light there is a shadow...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fan-fiction but I hope you all enjoy it! I'm not sure how many chapters it will be and I'm sorry if I am slow updating it, because I have a busy school and work life, but there will be more chapters then just this one so be patient, please. :)
> 
>  
> 
> P.S- I apologize for any grammar mistakes, such as misuses of commas or spelling errors. I try my best to edit my work, but every once in a while things escape me and my skills are limited. I am only human so of course there may be errors.

This man appears sculpted, smooth, and chiseled to an almost supernatural perfection; as if this man is made from the finest stone in the world and has been carved by some unknown magnificent sculptor. The sheer unreal beauty of this man has Patroclus rubbing the palms of his hands into his plain brown eyes, before he once again stares at this man; this strange man whose head is flowing with golden ringlets of hair and olive skin that glows as if it were the sun itself. Perhaps it is this brilliant light shining from this man that has Patroclus edging closer and closer? 

With a ferocious roar Patroclus’s stomach begs for food. He covers his hand over his starving stomach, desperately trying to stop the sound from scaring away the man before him. Of course it is not the light that has attracted Patroclus, but he can’t argue that the man looks just as pleasing to him as the juicy fig that is clutched in the man’s right hand. It’s been about three days since Patroclus's last meal and wondering around this large city of lost dreams and filthy rats has definitely taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically.

Cautiously Patroclus gently taps between the broad shoulders of the blonde man. As if shocked, the blonde man drops his fig, and turns around in a sudden jolt like a beast ready to attack. The intensity of his glare has Patroclus looking down at the stained concrete below his feet. The man mutters an apology before he picks up his half eaten fig and brushes it off. Patroclus tries to say something, but he feels paralyzed under the gaze that is emitting from the man’s emerald eyes. In the distance Patroclus swears he can hear the strings of some strange instrument being plucked. He gathers up some courage and speaks,

“I’m sorry I startled you!”

His voice is horse and he curses himself for not speaking more often to others.

“I’ll just be going… I…. That is… I didn’t mean to…”

More curses in his mind and Patroclus gives up speaking; Instead he turns to leave, but he is surprised by the feeling of something catching his arm.

The golden haired man is smiling, his fingers digging into Patroclus’s worn out hoodie sleeve. With an odd chuckle the man releases Patroclus and shoves his partially eaten fig into Patroclus's chest. Patroclus tries to hide the blush that spreads onto his cheeks from the kind gesture.

“You need this more than I.”

The man says; his voice buzzes in the air like the low hum of a bumblebee and suddenly Patroclus is yearning for the man to say more. He tucks a loose strand of his long, curled, chestnut brown hair behind his ear, then he tries to speak to the blonde man once again. He clears his throat with a quite,

“Thank you.”

The blonde man’s smile stretches even wider than before, he points to Patroclus's backpack that Patroclus left on the curb, and then gestures to the rest of Patroclus with a swift wave of his hand,

“How long?” The man asks.

One would wonder what the he is talking about, but Patroclus already knows what the man is asking. He is wondering how long Patroclus has been living on the street. Worry etches over Patroclus's already weary heart. This man is either an angel or a cop. Patroclus only hopes that this handsome man is an angel. This man does not appear to be a cop that would throw him into jail for loitering on public space. An incident like that happened before to Patroclus and he will never forget those terrible nights, those awful nights he had to spend in jail just for trying to live. 

Instead of answering the man, Patroclus chooses to snarf down his fig and grab his backpack. With his mouth full he bends down and picks up his belonging. He tries to leave but once again the man stops him. He blocks Patroclus's way by standing in front of him. Looking at this man’s brawn muscles Patroclus backs up intimidated, worried, scared, and slightly in awe of this man’s persistence for a mere answer as the man asks again,

“How long have you been living here?”

Patroclus tries to run but the man snags him by the hood of his hoodie.

“Please…”

Pat begs for the man to let him go. He has to be a cop, although Patroclus wishes for him to be an angel, there’s no other reason this man would stop Patroclus from running away. Patroclus's weak body squirms in the man’s grasp.

“I’m sorry I bothered you. I won’t do it again! Just let me go, please! I learned my lesson before. I’ll leave the city, I swear! Please, don’t put me back in that horrible place! I don’t think I could bare another night more in that place... Please. Let me go."

The man looks confused and he pulls Patroclus backwards so he can get a better look at his face.

“Listen to me!”

The man’s voice is urgent but also bizarrely calm. Patroclus can only obey the man’s familiar deep voice and his body stills. The man releases Patroclus's hood and he trembles when the blond man is suddenly grabbing his wrist and placing his thumb upon his wiry blue vein.

“Your heart is beating fast.”

The man states. Patroclus looks confused but nods his head in agreement.

“I’m sorry if I scare you. It’s just…”

The man scratches the back of his head.

“You look the same age as me and judging from your clothes… you’re homeless, right?”

Patroclus blinks back astonished. He knows that he is homeless; however hearing it from the lips of a stranger is something Pat has never experienced before. It’s as if the dim light of reality has been switched on full blast and is now blinding him in the emerald green light from this man’s eyes. Patroclus is unsure how to respond. The man of course notices this and awkwardly moves his hand from Patroclus's wrist and into his palm. He gives Patroclus's hand a firm squeeze,

“My name is Achilles.”

He says, snapping Patroclus out of his thoughts. Pat squeezes back and then let’s go of Achilles hand as if he were burned. Achilles’s firm touch still lingers upon the skin of his hand in a soft warmth. His lip’s quiver,

“I’m Patroclus.”

Achilles blinks and then slowly repeats,

“Pat-ro-clus…”

He sounds it out, sweet and sticky like rich honey in the air, and in that mere moment Patroclus knows that he will never hear his name sound so lovely on the lips of any other stranger.

The light behind the blonde man's body is settling down into the vivid colors of a sunset, casting orange and scarlet hues upon the dreary city. Patroclus really needs to find a place to sleep before the sun is gone and darkness overtakes the day. He moves his head to look past Achilles with urgency, trying to hint to the man that he must go, and Achilles nods his own head in understatement.

“Of course, you need to find a place to rest for the night.”

Achilles says, not as a question but as a statement. He looks back at the setting sun and then back to Patroclus . The spark that has ignited in the man’s emerald eyes has Patroclus backing up further than before.

“Stay with me.”

Achilles says the words as if they were the easiest thing in the world. Confused Patroclus shakes his head no. What if this is all a trap? What if this man is a cop? Or what if this man is a criminal? His heart beats faster; a sore lump in his throat. Achilles looks to the side as if uneasy with this situation, but he still holds a proud smirk.

“I don’t mean like… I just… I think it would be better if you stay with me tonight. I have a room in the hotel down the street and well… It’s safer than the street.”

His words are full of strange confidence and Patroclus realizes that this man does not mean any harm. Achilles honestly just wants to help. Patroclus places his hand upon Achilles's shoulder.

“Thank you for your concern… but I will be alright.”

Patroclus’s words seem to anger Achilles somehow and he shoots Patroclus a harsh glare. He grabs Patroclus's arm, causing Pat to let out a yelp from the sudden brashness of his action, and his eyes fill with fear from memories of his past. Achilles looks injured when he hears the brown haired boy's yelp; therefore he quickly pulls back and lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

Achilles mutters and Patroclus rubs his arm.

“I just… I don’t think it’s safe for you here. I didn’t mean to hurt you just now but… If you stay out here you’re going to be killed!”

Achilles's sad eyes have Patroclus’s mind utterly puzzled. For some reason seeing this man sad feels as if the world is crushing beneath Patroclus's feet. With hesitance he reaches out and pulls on Achilles sleeve.

“Alright…”

Patroclus's voice shakes with uncertainy and he can feel bile rise in his throat,

“I’ll stay with you but… just for tonight.”

As if the sun could come out at night, Achilles beams like the brightest light Patroclus has ever seen! He grabs Patroclus's bag from his back and pulls out some hard candy that he was hiding in his pocket. Without any words Patroclus takes the candy from Achilles hand.

“When we get back to the room I can give you a proper meal! You are going to love it!”

Achilles says happily and Patroclus feels like a stray dog that Achilles has just picked up, however he does not mind being a stray dog, at least not for Achilles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to give me tips for editing or anything just let me know in the comments below! I'm actually wondering if there are any easy ways of editing in the AO3 Chapter text box? Thank you for reading and I will have more chapters out as soon as I can! :)


	2. Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patroclus does not want to burden Achilles. At least with Achilles he feels some sort of trust and they both are having fun with this new growing relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This new chapter came out the same day as the first one! :) Don't expect all the chapters to come out that fast, but do look forward to more... Have fun reading!

As Patroclus and Achilles make their way up three flights of stairs and to the door of Achilles hotel room, the sun has disappeared from the sky outside, and is replaced by a full yellow moon. Unlocking way too many locks with a brass key, Achilles gives the door a hard shove; it's rusty hinges squeakinb in protest. The door opens slowly and Achilles gestures for Patroclus to go ahead and enter his hotel room.

Thinking that this place would be a dump, due to it's old style brick apartment appearance, Patrolcus is surprised to see just how nice Achilles's hotel room actually is; Hardwood floors, a fire place, a large oak table, and a glass chandelier are all before him. His backpack drops from his back in a soft thump upon the floor as his wide eyes try to take in all the surroundings that he is faced with; a working bathroom is to his left and a bedroom is to his right, not to mention there is a little kitchen near the oak table that has Patroclus jumping for joy inside his head.

Achilles laughs as he places his arm around Patroclus's shoulder. 

“You like what you see?” 

He asks and Patroclus can hardly nod as his knees shake below him. Suddenly he feels sick. Exhaustion has taken it's toll on him and now it's here to collect it's debt. As if Achilles can feel the abrupt change in the air he looks to Patroclus and grabs his shoulders. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

He asks and the brunet nods weakly, even though he can start to feel the color drain from his face. His breathing becomes more rapid and Achilles is quickly placing his hand upon Patroclus's forehead. 

“Crap…”

Achilles earnestly looks into the brown eyes before him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you walk all those stairs! I did not know that you are ill.” 

For once in his life Patroclus can feel a true smile creep its way onto his face. 

“I’m not sick.” 

He says and Achilles can see right through his lie, flicking his forehead playfully. 

“You stubborn bastard, don’t lie to me!” 

He chuckles and all of a sudden Patroclus takes off running. He doesn't know why he is running... It just feels right. Mabye he's delrious from his fever?

Achilles chases after Patroclus gleefully as their laughter fills the room like chiming bells. With a sharp turn Patroclus whips around the table keeping Achilles stuck on the other side. 

“Get back here! You should really get some rest, Patroclus!” 

Achilles shouts and Patroclus's laughter grows ever louder. He can’t remember the last time that he has felt this happy. He yells back to Achilles, 

“Never!” 

And tries to run even faster but ends up tripping. His body hits the floor in a mighty tumble and his skin painfully slides against the old wooden floor. Achilles panics and races to his side. 

“Patroclus!” 

He yells but Patroclus’s ears are ringing too loud to hear Achilles; He can only feel Achilles warm hands touching his face. 

“Patroclus!” 

Patroclus's body feels as if it is on fire. 

It’s not until Patroclus's vision clears from pained tears that he realizes Achilles is carrying him. His back is placed upon something soft and for a moment Patroclus believes that he is on a cloud and has met his end, until cool water finds its way to his parched lips. Greedily he chugs the clear liquid. The last thing he can feel is Achilles's hand softly brushing through his hair. The world turns dark. 

When Patroclus awakes, the sun is peeping over the city with the dull early light of morning. His eyes blink in confusion at the room around him until he recalls that he is at Achilles hotel room. Untwisting from the soft cotton sheets of a large bed, he turns onto his side, and holds back a surprised squeal. Laying before him in a mess of curly blonde hair and a stream of glittering sunlight is Achilles; gently breathing through a pair of parted pink lips and fluttering blonde lashes. His eyes open hazily and Patroclus is lured into the green orbs before him that sparkle with small flecks of gold. 

“Constellations of gold…”

He whispers at the green eyes and Achilles lets out a groggy, 

“Hmmm…?”

Before suddenly sitting up in a alert flash. He grabs Patroclus's face with firm hands.

“You’re okay?! Oh, I'm so happy you are alright!” 

His voice is loud and Patroclus is confused by the worry in Achilles voice.

“Yes, of course I'm alright. I only had fever.” 

Achilles eyebrows fall down from their worried crease as he relaxes and he lets outs a sigh,

“You… Patroclus, you really scared me there.” 

He says and Patroclus once again is not sure how to respond to Achilles. Why is this stranger so worried for him? Patroclus stays silent for a while. At some point during the strange silence, Patroclus notices that he is still wearing his same clothes from yesterday. He is also covered in dirt from who knows what...after all he has been sleeping on the street for a month. He suggests that he is going to take a shower and Achilles smiles at him, making a joke about how much Patroclus stinks. 

The bathroom is quite tiny compared to the rest of the space in the hotel room, however Patroclus could care less as he feels the warm shower water spray upon his body. It’s been to long since he had clean water. Gutters and leaking pipes do not do justice compared to a true shower. The dirt and grime wash off the brunet in murky waves down the shower drain. He’ll have to apologize later to Achilles for the stains that his asphalt covered feet have left upon the white shower floor. With one last breath of hot steam and a second rinse of soap, Patroclus turns the water off, and pulls the shower curtain back. He steps out of the shower feeling like a new man; wrapping the plush white towel from the side of the sink upon his waist, however all his joy from the shower leaves him in an instant when he comes to the conclusion that his only clothes to wear are his dirty torn clothes, the same clothes he has been wearing for a month now. He could ask Achilles for a change of clothes but… Wouldn’t that be too much to ask for? He doesn’t want to burden Achilles, after all Achilles let him stay the night, and had watched over him when he was ill. 

A knock on the bathroom door has Patroclus jumping up in the air, dropping his bag, and holding onto the side of the sink to stop himself from slipping onto the linoleum floor. 

“Pat-ro-clus?” 

Patroclus shakes his head and holds his towel tightly around his waist. Fear grips at his heart and he tries to ignore it as best as he can. He shouldn’t be afraid of Achilles. This man has been nothing but kind to him, yet... Patroclus's mind itches with the thoughts of of his past and mistrust. 

Achilles fully opens the door unaware that Patroclus is standing in only a towel. His eyes widen and his cheeks appear slightly pink upon his olive skin as he glances over the brunet, then looks away. In his hands is a set of folded clothes. 

“I thought you could use some clean clothes. Sorry, I didn't know you were out of the shower yet. I was just going to lay them on the sink.” 

He says innocently and Patroclus looks to the side embarrassed. 

“Thank you, Achilles.” 

He says and Achilles eyes dart back to Patroclus. The green orbs even wider than before. 

“Hey, you said my name…”

He whispers. Patroclus feels his face grow warmer than before; His cheeks are probably the color of apples right now. 

“Yes, I…”

Before Patroclus can finish his sentence he gasps. Achilles fingertips are lightly touching the indentations of his ribs; grazing upon his pale freckled skin. He flinches away, but is trapped between the wall and the sink.

“Pat, just how long were you on the streets?” 

Achilles asks and his voice sounds pained; saddened from seeing Patroclus's thin frame of ribs, hollow stomach, and frightened eyes lined with dark purple circles. Not expecting a reply Achilles sighs. He looks to Patroclus And places his hand upon the brunet's neck before gliding it down his shoulder. 

“You’re skin and bones... I’ll fix you a meal soon!” 

His voice is reassuring and Patroclus finds the sensation strange when Achilles takes his hand away. 

Achilles leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and Patroclus collapses to the floor. He leans his back against the cool wall and pulls his legs in front of him. His body feels as cold as ice, except for the places where Achilles had touched him, but the feeling passes and is replaced by a twisting feeling in Pat’s gut that has him up and moving in no time; pulling on his shirt and pants to the sound of something sizzling in the distance.


	3. His Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles asks an important question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... these chapters sure are updating fast, huh? Yeah, they probably will slow down in a couple of weeks because I have some tests coming up in my classes. In the mean time, please enjoy! :) I'll post some more when I can! Thank you all for reading!

Patroclus emerges from the bathroom to the strong smell of something burning. The smoke in the air is a light hovering fog that causes Patroclus to cough and choke as he makes his way into the kitchen. He is surprised that the smoke alarms have not went off yet.

Hunched over the stove, stirring a black and yellow blob, is Achilles; wearing a white apron with his curly haired tied up in a small red ponytail. The sleeves of his navy blue button up shirt are wrinkled clumps around his biceps, splattered with dark stains, and Patroclus can only assume that Achilles tried to roll his sleeves up during cooking. Patroclus laughs at Achilles foolish appearance and Achilles turns around in an instant. 

“What’s so funny?” 

He asks with a splotch of yellow liquid upon his cheek and Patroclus holds his hand to his mouth, shaking his head as his shoulders tremor with small chuckles. Achilles rolls his eyes then turns his attention back to the stove. Taking a seat at the end of the oak table he had seen yesterday, Patroclus shifts in his chair, and tries to make himself comfortable. The chair beneath him creaks from old wear over the years, but the chair itself is still extremely smooth and polished. Fortunately the old chair is also quite comfy, which helps Patroclus relax as he leans back, and waits for his meal. it has been so long since he has last had a meal at a table.

With a few clinks, irritated sighs, and muffled curses later, Achilles presents Patroclus with a plate of burnt eggs, floppy bacon, mildly toasted toast, two figs, and a glass of milk. His face is practically oozing with joy and he wears his ever so famous proud smile. Gladly Patroclus accepts the plate with an appreciated grin, and Achilles grabs his own plate that he had laid upon the kitchen counter, sitting down on a chair at the other end of the table. With much eagerness Patroclus grabs his fork and digs into the burnt eggs. He hasn’t had food in so long that he doesn’t care if it’s burnt or not. Thinking Achilles will be happy that he is eating his cooking, Patroclus looks up at Achilles, only to find him sulking and slightly frowning. Patroclus slowly puts his fork down. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

He asks, wondering if he has disturbed Achilles with his poor table manners. Achilles blinks out of his empty daze and looks to Patroclus with surprise. 

“Huh? Oh it’s uh… It’s nothing!” 

He smirks, but Patroclus can see through his lie by looking at the worry lines upon his brow. 

“Achilles, if you don’t want me lying to you then... Well... you should not lie to me. Let’s be honest here. I can tell something is bothering you. I think... I...I would like to be your friend but... I can't be your friend if you don't trust me.

Patroclus says, remembering last night’s fun chase. Achilles sighs and Patroclus comes to the conclusion that Achilles sighs a lot when he is bothered by something. The blonde looks down to his untouched plate, scoots his chair back with a loud screech, grabs his plate, and sits in the chair beside Patroclus. 

“I’m sorry, Pat.” 

Achilles speaks quietly as he grabs his fork. 

“I just felt like I was too far away from you down there. I hope this isn’t weird… I just feel… beside you I feel…”

Patroclus smiles, 

“Comfortable?” 

Achilles nods his head, 

“Yeah.” 

Everything grows silent except for the occasional scraping of a metal fork against a plate. 

Patroclus is chewing on some of the bitter eggs when an egg shell scrapes the top of his mouth. He spits the shell out, already tasting the rich coppery taste of blood coming from the small cut on the roof of his mouth. Achilles looks over to him with a deep chuckle and apologizes for his poor cooking skills. Once again the room grows silent. The heavy atmosphere in the room is a weight upon Patroclus's chest and he looks over to Achilles who still appears sad. 

“Achilles…”

Achilles hears Patroclus's soft voice and looks to him. Their eyes meet and Patroclus can feel that Achilles wants to ask something. Patroclus gives Achilles leg a sudden kick and Achilles winces back in pain. 

“What was that for!?” 

Patroclus shrugs and grabs a fig from Achilles plate, takes a bite, and places it back. 

“Why you little thief!” 

Achilles smiles as he speaks. 

“Why did you have to go and do that for? Now I’m shy half a fig! I’ll have you know that those are my favorite, Patroclus!” 

Patroclus grins with a clever glint in his eyes,

“You’re hiding something, Achilles.” 

He says and Achilles smirks, 

“No I’m not.” 

Achilles's leg is hit with another swift kick. 

“Ouch, stop that Pat! You’re not very nice to someone who let you stay the night in their room!” 

He shouts and Patroclus draws his leg back once more for another kick when Achilles is suddenly putting his hands out in front of him. 

“Alright! Alright! Enough, Pat!” 

Achilles tries not to sound defeated as he carefully watches Patroclus’s leg and the brunet smiles; he’s won this battle. 

“Yes, I’m hiding something, okay I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable so... It's fine. Do not worry about it."

Patroclus swings his leg back once more and Achilles shouts,

“Okay! Okay, I will tell you. Just…”

He looks down to his plate and Patroclus is surprised to see the blush appear on the back of Achilles neck; If his hair was down Patroclus would have never noticed it. Achilles looks anxious and is wrapping his hands around themselves. 

“Don’t feel pressured, okay?” 

He says timidly and Patroclus is baffled by the nervousness in Achilles's voice. He nods his head and gestures for Achilles to continue speaking. Achilles takes a deep breath. 

“I was thinking last night… I really like having you here, Patroclus. I mean I know we are strangers, you’ve only been here one night, and I hardly know anything about you except for your name but I… I feel like I have known you my whole life! I feel like I can trust you! I know it’s weird and I’m sorry. I just… I get lonely here and I’m going to be living in this place Until I get a job. My mother owns this hotel. She’s the reason why I can stay here in this suite until I find a job, but she said I could have a roommate if I would like and… and I was just wondering Pat if you… Would you like to? That is would you… would you like to be my roommate? If not I can find you somewhere to live? I have money. I can help you.”

His voice sounds desperate and without thinking Patroclus finds his hands around Achilles’s sweaty palms. He lifts their hands up and holds them entwined in front of his face. His brown eyes gaze at Achilles with certainty as he says, 

“Achilles…”

His name comes out in a soft breath upon Achilles's skin and the blonde shudders as the air smooths over his knuckles. 

“I…”

Patroclus feels dizzy. He’s not sure what this feeling is but his gut is telling him to stay. He should stay by this light. Protect this light from the darkness of the cruel city and the cold world around it. 

“I will stay with you.” 

As if understanding his thoughts Achilles leans in and touches his forehead to Patroclus’s forehead. 

“Thank you, Patroclus.”

His voice echoes through Patroclus's ears in the soft plucks of mysterious strings,

Patroclus. 

Patroclus. 

Pat-ro-clus.


	4. Similarities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patroclus meets someone new but also familiar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it's been since my last update! I knew it was going to be awhile because of other things happening in my life... work for example. Anyways... I hope you all enjoy this new chapter! Look forward to more :)

It has already been two short weeks since Patroclus started living with the golden stranger he had met on the streets of the city. That handsome stranger with the face of an angel and the strength of a god: Achilles. Sometimes Patroclus shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before he gazes upon the man who smells of sandalwood; this man who saved him from soggy cardboard signs, the suffocating stench of smog, and the rotten gutters of the street. 

Sitting at the oak table with an old book settled between his hands Patroclus dozes off into his daydreams and wonders if Achilles could actually be an angel? After all Achilles does portray a heavenly glow about him and he is very trusting, however all Patroclus’s thoughts of Achilles’s angelic qualities disappear, as Achilles walks in front of him this evening, and slams down a weighted brown paper bag upon the oak table. Pat shuts the book that he honestly was trying to read, if not for his distracting thoughts involving Achilles.

Questionably he squints at Achilles, who is practically beaming in the white walled room! Grinning from ear to ear, Achilles opens the brown sack, and reveals a glossy green bottle that sloshes with an unknown liquid. He waits for Patroclus to say something but he says nothing. 

“Well…”

Achilles inquires, 

“Are you impressed or not?” 

Patroclus shifts his eyes over the bottle and then back to Achilles. He notices a dark tinge to the liquid that slightly resembles the liquid in a bottle of grape juice. He goes with the best answer he can produce, 

“You bought some sparkling grape juice?” 

Achilles can hardly hold in his laughter at Patroclus’s comment. He laughs so hard that his hand has to grab onto the table so he will not fall. Patroclus appears confused by Achilles and picks up the bottle. Turning it in his hands he reads the label, 

“Merlot Red Wine!” 

Achilles laughs even harder at Pat’s surprise. 

“Achilles, where did you get this!? Have you gone mad!? There’s no way you could have bought this! You’re only eighteen! This is America; have you no morals for the laws here?” 

A smug smirk plasters itself upon Achilles face. His bronze hand snatches the bottle from Patroclus and he poses a victorious stance, with one hand placed upon on his side, and his other hand spinning and catching the bottle. In a strange graceful manner, the bottle twists in the air, and lands in Achilles hand in a series of summersaults. As if Achilles is secretly a professional juggler, he continues to throw the bottle in the air and catch it with ease. Patroclus fears that Achilles will drop the bottle, but chooses not to interfere, especially when Achilles sends him a luring wink. 

“Pat, if I was to steal Alcohol… I would have stolen something way more expensive! America’s not my country anyways; I was born in Greece. This wine is a gift! I received this wine from a pretty little lady downstairs. Ha, I feel like a prince in this hotel!” 

He speaks with enthusiasm; rubbing in his good looks and his popularity with women into Patroclus’s face. Patroclus rolls his eyes and lets out a snort, 

“Yeah, I bet you conned someone didn’t you? Used them big green eyes of yours, huh? Asked them to buy it for you?” 

Achilles looks offended. 

“No! It’s really a gift! She’s one of the hotel staff members. You see she thinks I’m twenty one because I have a room rented here. She does not know that I’m the son of the hotel owner here. I mean my mother and I hardly look alike, so I can’t blame her, anyways… the girl who gave me this wine talks to me a lot on her break time. Today I saw her in the hall and she got all nervous. It was really cute! Her bottom lip was pouty, her cheeks were pink, and her hands were fidgety, but she’s not my type. Oh! She also gave me a small box of chocolates. Here!” 

Achilles throws a small heart shaped box of chocolates out of the bag. Patroclus clumsily catches the box, nearly dropping it and all its contents. 

“You can have those. I bet it’s been awhile since you had good chocolate. Anyway let’s drink! Party time!” 

Achilles lets out a whoop of glee as his hand grips the cork on the bottle. Patroclus lunges himself across the table in an effort to stop Achilles’s hand from popping out the cork. 

“Are you kidding me, Achilles! We can’t drink this! Stop!” 

His hand is on top of Achilles’s hand and he hopes Achilles cannot feel his racing heartbeat. He curses himself in his head. Achilles’s appears baffled by Patroclus's action. He shoves Patroclus off, then once more tries to open the bottle, but Patroclus persistently stops him yet again. 

“What’s the problem?” 

Achilles growls. Patroclus holds the bottle firmly.

“Achilles, if we get caught with this stuff we could be thrown in jail or worse! This is wrong! We can’t drink until we are twenty one!” 

Achilles actually looks pissed and he pries Patroclus's hand off the bottle once more. 

“Patroclus, it is fine! We can drink this! After all… we wouldn’t want this good wine to go to waste, right? Also it was a gift! It would be rude to turn down a gift! In Greece there is no drinking age as long as you are drinking privately. Just pretend we are in Greece! Let’s just have one glass? Could we partake of just one measly glass? Please… Pat-ro-clus.” 

Achilles flickers his emerald eyes and speaks with a low tone. With an irritated moan Patroclus gives in. This man is going to be the death of him, especially if he continues to persuade Patroclus with those intoxicating eyes of his and his accented words. 

“Fine! We can have one glass but that’s it, alright?! Who knows what we would do if we got drunk, besides this is my first time actually drinking alcohol.” 

Any anger that is left in Achilles eyes from earlier fades away in an instant. Once more he is glowing and Patroclus feels nauseous in his radiant light. He needs to escape. 

“I’ll get some ice.” 

Patroclus grumbles, 

“You go get the glasses, Achilles. When I’m back we can drink.” 

Achilles lets out a bellowed howl of joy and races to the kitchen cabinets. Patroclus opens the white door of the mini fridge and looks into the ice bucket. To his disbelief the bucket is empty. 

“Achilles…”

He murmurs crossly, 

“There’s no ice. Weren’t you supposed to pick some up last night?” 

Achilles lets out a grunt as he sorts through the cups in the cabinet, 

“Shit! I forgot! We are all out of ice! There is an ice machine on the second floor, can you get some ice?” 

Patroclus almost answers with a no but changes his mind. It’s probably best that he does not anger the man with super human strength. He grabs the ice bucket and then the brass hotel key from the table. 

“I’ll be back. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, okay?” 

Patroclus chirps and Achilles makes a loud huff, 

“Aw… and here I was hoping to chug this bottle before you came back.” 

He winks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Patroclus slams the door. 

Pacing from the carpet coated hallway and out the door labeled fire escape stairwell; Patroclus descends the concrete stairs to the ice machine. With each step he complains to himself about not putting on any shoes; Wincing as the blisters from his life on the street begin to open up against the rough concrete. He’ll have to put some ice on his feet when he gets back to the room. 

As he finally arrives at the ice machine, he notices that the machine is blocked by a slender woman with tan skin. Her long waves of brunette hair fall to the middle of her back in soft curls. She seems to be stuck in a battle with the ice machine; unsure of how to make the machine start. 

Patroclus leans over the woman and presses the grey button to make the ice drop into her bucket. He barely doges a flying hand as the woman nearly smacks him across the face. As if startled by her own action, she jumps back, and accidentally hits her ice bucket out of the ice machine in the process. The woman frantically picks up her bucket; scrambling for all her loose ice. Patroclus bends over kindly and takes her bucket out of her hands. He then places her bucket back on the machine for it to fill with ice once more. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her voice is quiet and shaking like the wings of a hummingbird. She reminds Patroclus much of himself when Achilles had first found him. Her eyes riffle left and right. 

“It’s alright, accidents happen all the time, just… do not use that ice on the ground. Let it melt.” 

Patroclus smiles and the woman turns her head upwards from the floor. For a moment Patroclus is completely shocked by this woman. Her face is elegant just like her dainty figure, complete with a pair of rouge lips and dark velvet lashes that surround her bright blue eyes; eyes the color of light reflecting upon the ocean’s surface. Looking at this woman, Patroclus begins to wonder... just how many beautiful people are there in this city? 

The woman twiddles a strand of her brown hair between her fingers, obviously uncomfortable under Patroclus’s stare, before messing with the collar of her cream colored turtle neck and wispy violet scarf. Patroclus tries to hide his smile; she’s just like him! She’s shy and nervous! He timidly shoots out his hand and introduces himself with fake confidence; taking on the role of Achilles in this situation, 

“My name is Patroclus; however you may call me Pat. That is… um...if you want to call me Pat? I stay in a room on the third floor with a friend of mine.” 

The woman nods her head but she does not take Patroclus's hand, therefore he slowly withdraws it, and she looks past him at her now full ice bucket. She slides by Patroclus and takes the bucket. In a hurry she walks away from him; her arm brushing against his. With her back turned towards him she looks back and says in a low whisper, 

“Briseis. I'm also on the third floor.” 

Then in a mad dash she disappears onto the elevator at the end of the hall. 

Patroclus shifts his bucket upon the ice machine with a faint chuckle. Who would have thought that someone like him would be in this hotel? Perhaps fate has brought him another friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be shy and leave some comments if you would like to :)


	5. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles finds out about Patroclus's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter, yay! :) I'm really happy to receive kudos so thanks for those!!! Also thank you all so much for reading my work! Be prepared for some major feels in this chapter... Patroclus has a depressing past...

Patroclus makes his way back to Achilles hotel room with sore feet. Finally arriving, he holds the heavy ice bucket on his hip with one arm, and works his way through the many locks on Achilles door. Finally the last lock clicks and he pushes open the door. The hinges squeak in protest like they always do. 

“Achilles, I met a beautiful girl in the hall just now!” 

Pat brags; shutting the door behind him with a thud. 

“Achilles?” 

He calls out but there is no answer. The room is dark and the bottle of wine still rests upon the oak table. 

“Achilles?!" 

A little more panicked now Patroclus begins to search the hotel room. In a blur something falls upon Patroclus followed by an extremely loud crash. The heaviness of the object crushes him and the terrible memories of his past flash throughout Patroclus's head. He clutches his chest and lets out a horrified scream. Above him Achilles’s laughs, 

“I got you good! Didn’t I, Pat?" 

Patroclus cannot move. His head hurts. His body feels tense. Fear gnaws at the corners of his mind like a disease. 

“Pat?” Achilles says with concern. 

He looks down at his friend. 

“Patroclus?!"

Patroclus's fear is a shadow hovering over Achilles. Quickly Achilles grabs hold of Patroclus’s shoulders and gives him a swift shake. Patroclus does not respond. his body is limp and trembling. Regrettably Achilles raises his hand and smacks it down across Patroclus's cheek. In an instant Patroclus snaps out of his terrible visions with a large gasp. Achilles words shake, 

“Are you alright?” 

Patroclus does not move; lying upon his back on the hard wooden floor. His skin is pale, his cheek flushed,his eyes wide and weary as he stares blankly at Achilles.

“I’m…”

Patroclus breathes out heavily in harsh coughs. Goosebumps sweep across his body in a sheen of cold sweat. Achilles’s eyes scan Patroclus in one subtle glance. He never recognized what the dark circles around Patroclus eyes were from, or the way Patroclus would jump at any loud sound, or the way Patroclus’s body resembled a still corpse… no not a corpse… a statue. A cracked statue; frozen in time between the beautiful light of day and the cold darkness of night. All this time Patroclus has been living in fear of something. Achilles dares asks what Patroclus is afraid of but asking Patroclus would probably send Patroclus into another panic attack, he can't do that. 

“Yeah… I’m… I’m alright Achilles…”

He says but his eyes say otherwise. Achilles gently rolls off of Patroclus and stands. He grabs Patroclus’s hands and carefully pulls him up. With a sorrowful voice Achilles tries to hold back his emotions as he speaks, he has to stay strong for Patroclus, for the frightened brown eyes that stare at him in this moment. 

“Sorry for surprising you. I won’t do that again. I just thought it would be funny to sneak up on you. I promise that it will never happen again. This will never happen again!” 

Patroclus nods and gives Achilles a tiny smile, 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry. It’s my fault for being such a coward. Hey, want to drink now?” 

Achilles wants to know what just happened to Patroclus and he tries to say something in protest; Wanting to tell Patroclus that he is not a coward, however Pat stops him by placing his long finger upon Achilles lips. 

“How about we play a game while we drink?” 

Achilles eyes light up. 

“That’s a great Idea! There is a television in the bedroom! I put an Xbox in the there when I moved in my luggage! We could play Modern Warfare, Halo, or Soul Calibur?” 

Patroclus chuckles, 

“Pretty much all fighting games? Doesn’t surprise me with you. You are such a warrior, Achilles.” 

Achilles’s cheeks gain a slight shade of pink and he rubs the back of his head nervously. 

“It’s what I’m good at… well besides sports. I really like fighting games.” 

Patroclus rolls his shoulders. The pleasant mood in the air is letting his mind wonder and his painful memories crawl away. He turns his face towards Achilles, and crosses his arms. He’s never been amazing at video games, especially fighting games, but bored games… He’s a champion at bored games. He nudges Achilles arm with a light punch. 

“I’m not too great with fighting games. I like strategic games like Risk, Chess, or Monopoly. We could play a bored game and then some twenty questions. We could get to know each other a little more instead of staring at a bright screen for hours and shooting things to death.” 

Achilles appears baffled and a tiny bit stunned. His eyebrows rise quizzically, 

“Bored games? Are you serious?” 

Patroclus nods his head and a low rumble of laughter pours from Achilles chest; sweet as syrup, warm as the sun, and tingling up Patroclus’s spine and upon his cheeks in an explosion of color. Why does this man have to be so handsome? So kind? Why does Patroclus’s hero make his knees shake and heart flutter? 

“Okay, we can play some bored games, Patroclus… but I will warn you that I don’t have very many bored games and I’m terrible at them, however I will be victorious! My mother bought them for me when I was younger and I hardly play them now, but how difficult can they be? Which would you like to play,Pat? I have Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, and Operation. Which one will be your ultimate downfall?” 

Patroclus’s shoulders fall, slightly disappointed in Achilles choices of bored games; not a single one of them is very strategical like Patroclus likes. He was really hoping that Achilles would have Risk. He sighs but allows a smirk to show, 

“Operation. You get the game out and I’ll get the booze. Just set it on the table. We will see who is victorious!” 

Achilles agrees and the next thing they know the two of them are sitting at the oak table with empty glasses of what used to be their wine. 

The game of Operation lies on the edge of the table. Scattered plastic bones and body parts are spread around the room, as the red buzzer shrills repeatedly from Achilles woozy mistakes, constantly blinking with its little flashes of red. 

Patroclus has lost track of how many glasses of the delicious red wine he has swallowed. He had not even noticed that, at some point during the game, Achilles had the girl from room service bring another bottle, and he had refilled Patroclus's cup. He can hardly recall the girl’s strange name… Deidameia? 

The buzzer shrills again and Patroclus flings his hand upon Achilles’s hand, forcing the small tweezer from his fingers, and pulling out the last plastic piece from the Operation man’s heart. Achilles yells in clarity with both wonder and frustration, 

“How are you so good at this game?!” 

Unlike Patroclus, Achilles seems immune to the alcohol in his blood. In fact Achilles just seems a little tipsy, unlike Patroclus who feels as if the world is spinning, especially when he looks into the luring green sea of Achilles eyes. 

Patroclus places his hand on his chin and replies, 

“I wanted to be a doctor once. I’m also good at bored games.” 

Achilles lets out a bellowing laugh that bounces of the walls, 

“No shit! You told me you were good and I should have believed you! Want to play twenty questions now? We still have another bottle to go!” 

Patroclus nauseously holds his hand to his mouth at the thought of the bottle. Wait did Achilles say another bottle? The thought escapes him in a hiccup and Patroclus shakes his head, 

“How about you drink the rest of it? I’m not feeling too good. Can I go first?” 

Achilles shrugs his shoulders. His hand wraps around the slender neck of the bottle and he chugs back a heavy amount of the scarlet liquid. Is he even human? 

“Go for it.” 

Patroclus smiles, 

“Is this your first time drinking?” 

Achilles looks amused by the question.

“In Greece I used to causally drink but here in America I never drink. This would be my first time drinking here in America. The last time I had wine was about four years ago. I can already tell that my alcohol limit has weakened since then. I feel a little disoriented. My turn!” 

Patroclus snickers. Achilles has to be lying! The man looks only a little tipsy and who can use the word ‘disoriented’ when they are drunk? 

Achilles sends Patroclus a look like a puppy begging for food. 

“Patroclus, just how long were you on the streets?” 

He asks and Patroclus holds in laughter. He knew this would be Achilles first question. It was too obvious. 

“I was on the streets for a month. Now my turn.” 

The liquid in Achilles mouth spurts out in a spray. He almost falls from the chair he is leaning in and wheezes, 

“A whole month!” 

Patroclus nods his head and tries to hush Achilles, 

“Yes. A whole month! Now shut up. It’s my turn."

Like a child, Achilles pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key. Patroclus giggles and has to control his giddy laughter before he can speak again. 

“Alright Achilles.” 

He says and Achilles leans forward yet again. A big smile plastered upon his face. 

“Why did you drop out of college?” 

Achilles smile instantly drops. He changes the subject, 

“How about we talk about that pretty lady you saw in the hall? I heard you when I was hiding. Did you get her number?” 

Patroclus waves his pointer finger, 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk Achilles… This is my turn so answer my question.” 

Achilles slams his fists upon the table and lets out an over dramatic groan, 

“I got in to many fights! Happy now?! I was a rebel who did not obey my mother’s wishes." 

Patroclus playfully grins, 

“Yep. That sounds like something you would do. You sure like fighting don’t you?” 

Achilles flexes his bicep as if to show off his strength. 

“Sure do. I always thought about joining boxing. I’m a warrior! That’s what you called me earlier. I sure have the brawns of a warrior, don’t I? Perhaps my boxing name could be Achilles the Warrior! The strongest man alive! Best of all the Greeks! ” 

Patroclus rolls his eyes, 

“Oh, get over yourself you-”

Patroclus swings his fist at Achilles arm, but before he can finish speaking he accidentally tips outs of his chair, and falls upon the gloating warrior. They both tumble to the ground in a series of shrieks and laughter. Fortunately the chair is not damaged by the fall and both Patroclus and Achilles landed safely upon each other. When there giggling subsides, Patroclus pushes himself up, so he can sit on the floor in front of Achilles. Achilles sits up as well; He rubs his hand in his blond curls then reaches for the bottle on the table above him. Sadly the bottle is just out of Achilles reach and Patroclus laughs. Achilles had way more than enough to drink so the irony of this situation is probably best for him. Giving up on the bottle Achilles lays his hands in his lap. 

“Alright, It is once again my turn, Pat.” 

His deep voice sounds groggy from the alcohol and his previous howling from the fall. Patroclus's stomach twists and his chest tightens. 

“Why were you homeless? Did you run away from something?” 

Patroclus shifts in his chair. He feels like he is falling through a black pit and Achilles is the only light reaching for him.

He grasps at the edges of the large green t-shirt he is wearing for support as he weakly replies, 

“That’s two questions, Achilles.” 

Achilles holds up his fingers and squints, counting out the questions, 

“Ah you’re right, so then how about… What happened that made you homeless?” 

The air in the room feels like a knife. Patroclus uncomfortably chews on his bottom lip. 

“What’s your obsession with me being homeless?” 

Patroclus asks and Achilles hits his fist upon the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum, 

“Hey it’s my turn!” 

The sweat that has beaded upon Patroclus’s neck rolls down and tickles the skin between his shoulder blades. Nonchalantly he wipes the sweat away. There’s no point in avoiding Achilles question. Someday Achilles will have to learn the truth and no matter how much Patroclus hates to talk about it, he has to tell Achilles. He can’t cast a permeant cloud over the sun. 

“I was eleven years old…”

Patroclus takes in a deep breath. Achilles scoots closer; intently leaning in with his hands upon his chin. 

“I was eleven years old when I kissed a boy on the playground during recess. The boy was upset at me and I couldn’t understand why… I saw several girls in my class kiss boys they had crushes on, therefore I couldn’t understand what I had did wrong, but the boy knew. He pushed me and I pushed him back. I didn’t mean for him to hit his head upon the concrete and fall into a coma! I was confused! I…”

Patroclus feels his body crumble into himself, curling up in a wad of anxiety, and he curses his weak body and alcohol infected mind. His eyes are on the verge of tears and he buries his face in his knobby knees. Seeing Patroclus struggle, Achilles takes Patroclus’s hands in his, and rubs small circles with his thumbs upon Patroclus’s palms. 

“The school called my father. He was angry. When I came home that day he beat me! He told me that he could never love a son who wasn’t truly his son! Who wasn’t truly a boy or a man! He told me that he would straighten me up. I was scared and alone and…”

A sob racks through Patroclus's body and Achilles scoots closer. Close enough that his side is touching Patroclus's side. 

“For seven years he abused me! He hid me from social workers, saying I was on a long trip with my mother. My mother, who suddenly abandoned me by choosing death instead of dealing with the harsh cruelties of life and my demanding father. He punched me. He taunted me. He choked me, starved me, and locked me in my room for years. When I turned eighteen just last month, my father bought prostitutes to my room, told me they were a reward for all my cooperation over the years, and that I was finally straight again. The prostitutes felt sorry for me and as soon as my father left the room they helped me escape. I left for the city hoping for a better life but I found no job. I was offered a job by the prostitutes but… I can’t sell my body. No one should have this body. This confused body of mine. My father stole my home and this city stole my dreams. Those cold nights in the rain when I couldn’t get warm, nights in jail for trying to live, nights when my stomach would hurt so bad from hunger I was tempted to eat the rats in the metro… those were… those…”

Wails escape from Patroclus in surges as old memories flood his mind. His tears fall down his face; waterfalls etching into the cliffs of his freckled cheeks. Suddenly there’s a pair of sturdy arms wrapped around him and he melt’s into their warmth. His head falls upon Achilles chest and he listens to the soothing sound of his drumming heartbeat. 

“I’m sorry, Patroclus… I’m so sorry…”

Achilles nudges his face into Patroclus’s hair as Patroclus weeps. After so many hours, Patroclus's eyes can hardly stay open, he tries to nudge Achilles and tell him that he is alright now, but his body feels limp. Patroclus lets the creeping sensation of sleep take hold of his thoughts and he peacefully submerges himself into the comfort around him. Just for a while he would not mind staying like this, wrapped in the safe arms of his hero; Achilles: The best of all the Greeks and a light that pours out in a hundred gold urns. The man with a smile that can turn even the darkest night into day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is curious what I listened to when writing the first 5 chapters of this fic here are two songs
> 
> https://youtu.be/L24vaxNH91w - Temps de Catedrali  
> https://youtu.be/VdwaWp59qz8 - Melanie Martinez Sippy Cup
> 
> I pretty much listened to the Notre Dame de Paris album and Melanie Martinez Crybaby Album


	6. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is said that a person's true feelings can come out when they are drunk but... Patroclus does not believe in such things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...Achilles and Patroclus might have some discussing to do later, If Achilles recalls anything from this stormy morning. It might be awhile until my next update! I have not had much time to write but in the mean time at least you will have this fun little chapter ;)

Patroclus awakes to the soft pitter patter of rain and the low rumble of rolling thunder. His head is pounding and he lets out a weak groan. He remembers all he had said to Achilles when he was drinking. He spoke about his father, himself, and his fears.

“Shit..."

Patroclus combs his fingers through his hair. 

Judging by the plush comfort beneath his back he can only assume that he is not in his bed. The digital clock next to the bed, that lets off a hazy red light, is a bit blurry in Patroclus’s eyes but he can make out the numbers of seven-twenty-eight a.m. 

The soothing sound of rain is luring Patroclus back to sleep but he tries his best to keep his eyes open. He needs to get to the makeshift bed he had made upon the floor near the kitchen. Why is he in Achilles bed? Where is Achilles? He did not choose to sleep on the floor, did he? The soft breathing next to Patroclus gives an answer and Patroclus turns towards it. 

Sleeping peacefully, with his lips slightly parted as usual when he sleeps, lays Achilles; His chest slowly rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. This is the second time Patroclus has found himself waking by this man’s side. Achilles murmurs something in his sleep and Patroclus quietly laughs, 

“Cute…”

Without meaning to Patroclus finds himself leaning over the golden man. Something in Patroclus's heart has him wanting to bend down and tastes those soft pink lips. 

Mellow strings of music echo in Patroclus’s ears and he finally realizes the sound; a lyre. The sound being plucked in his ears can be nothing other than that of a lyre. He had heard a lyre once when he was younger; when his mother would sit him upon her knee and practice her classical music. 

Patroclus is not sure what he is doing as he lean’s in closer to Achilles. His heart aches for the light that glows before him in the darkness. His hand reaches out and he delicately cresses Achilles cheek. His thumb glides tenderly across Achilles smooth bottom lip and Achilles’s lips part wider. Patroclus’s parched mouth feels like a barren desert and all he wants to do is drink in Achilles; swallow up his warm light in one yearning kiss. His thirst needs to be quenched. It needs to be satisfied with the pure oasis of Achilles dazzling smile. Wait… smile?! 

Patroclus pulls his hand back immediately when he sees a smile formed upon Achilles lips. Achilles shifts and his eyes open in shinning green slivers. 

“Good morning Patroclus. Is something wrong?” 

His voice is rough from sleep and it sends a shiver down Patroclus’s spine. 

“I was just seeing if you were awake yet.” 

Patroclus lies between his teeth; thankful for the darkness in this room that hides the blush that has spread across his body in a wildfire.

What was he thinking?! He can't kiss Achilles! Stupid! How could he be so stupid?!

Unaware of the mental battle Patroclus is having, Achilles yawns, and warmly laughs, 

“Alright.” 

The room grows silent except for the occasional claps of thunder that fills the void. Patroclus lies back down and waits for Achilles to fall back asleep. When Achilles no longer stirs, Patroclus makes his move to leave, and grabs the scarlet blanket that is below his feet. Half way out of the bed he cautiously pulls at his pillow and attempts to pry Achilles’s fingers from the corner of his pillow case. He almost falls backwards out of the bed when he looks up and is met with gold flecks glinting into his brown eyes. 

Achilles’s fingers leave Patroclus’s pillow case and travel up Patroclus's hand; firmly taking hold of his wrist. Their faces are mere inches away from each other and Patroclus can smell the light waft of wine upon Achilles warm breath. He blames the alcohol that still runs in his body for making him feeling lightheaded as Achilles breaths in heavily and then hums a low order, 

“Stay.” 

Patroclus can only obey that steady deep voice. His body falls back upon the bed and Achilles wraps his arms around Patroclus’s torso. 

“Achilles…?”

Patroclus whispers under his breath; confused as the man holds him tightly, as if he were to shatter into pieces if Achilles were to let go. 

“Hush… I’m cold, Pat-ro-clus.” 

Hearing his name from Achilles mouth, Patroclus let’s out a soft moan, and holds himself back from rutting into his new friend. He covers his mouth with his hands in embarrassment. Damn this alcohol and its effects! Achilles laughs as if he understands Patroclus’s thoughts and pulls Patroclus closer to his well sculpted body. He nuzzles his face into Patroclus's long brown curls and Patroclus swears he is going to have a heart attack. 

“My clothes are very big on you...” 

Achilles words rattle against the shell of Patroclus's ear and Patroclus’s body burns like a fever. Achilles hand slides under Patroclus's loose shirt as if to show the space in his clothes. His finger nails lightly scrape against freckled ribs and Patroclus can only respond to Achilles with a puny whimper. His body craves for Achilles but he can’t let Achilles know. Achilles deserves better than a scraggly, homeless, loser. Achilles is also probably straight. Patroclus should not burden Achilles. This is only happening because of three bottles of wine. Achilles is clearly drunk, confused, and unsure of what he is doing. He probably will not remember any of this when he fully wakes. 

Suddenly Achilles lips are upon Patroclus neck and Patroclus lets out a needy cry. It feels so good being kissed like this but he has to stop Achilles. Achilles doesn’t know what he is doing! Patroclus has to stop him! He squirms in Achilles arms trying to turn around, but he strains to push Achilles back, his heart protesting and his hands hesitating. 

Achilles continues to passionately kiss Patroclus’s neck with wet kisses and the tightness in Patroclus's gut spreads lower. Patroclus curses himself. He has to stop this but…

“Achilles!” 

He moans. His voice hardly sounds like his own, raspy and full of hunger. His arms circle around Achilles’s waist and a crash of lighting causes thunder to rip through the room. 

Achilles pulls off Patroclus's shirt in a rush. He pecks a trail of kisses down Patroclus neck down to his chest; his hot breath ghosting upon Patroclus's skin. 

Everything feels wrong but at the same time… perfect. Together, like this, Patroclus feels whole. Only their bare chests are touching, yet Patroclus feels as if they were born to melt together like this, as if fate has bonded him to Achilles. 

Unable to control himself, Patroclus rubs his body against Achilles’s body, and the mere friction of their touching skin is electric! His pants feel too tight and the room feels too small! Achilles rocks against Patroclus; all the while kissing Patroclus’s chest and anywhere else he can find bare skin. 

Patroclus has lost all control of thought. The only words in his head are the sweet words resonating into his heart like waves upon sand. 

“Patroclus…Patroclus….Pat-ro-clus!” 

Achilles mouth moves to Patroclus’s lips, but Patroclus stops Achilles lips from their destination by placing his hand between their mouths. The brush of Achilles teeth upon his hand has him shuddering but he shakes his head. Achilles must stop. This dream must end! If it goes any further… Patroclus is sure he will not be able to stop himself and he does not want to live with the consequences of a one night stand with his newest best-friend. 

Achilles looks disappointed as Patroclus pushes him away, but Patroclus ignores his displeased gaze. He helps Achilles lay back down from his sitting position and is suddenly snared once again in Achilles arms. His face is pulled against Achilles chest and he sighs. Within minutes Achilles body relaxes around Patroclus's tense body. The soft breathing that falls upon Patroclus's neck can only mean that Achilles passed out. 

Warm thoughts drift into Patroclus’s mind. He thinks of the sloppy kisses placed upon his neck, the way Achilles soft hair tickled his chest, how Achilles gently nipped at his ear, and the vibrations that coursed through his skin, but the warm thoughts are sadly erased by cold thoughts as the minutes tick by; Thoughts of the boy on the playground, his father’s abuse, the torments of being gay in a world bursting with hate. 

Patroclus’s shoulders quake as he keeps back the tears that sting his eyes. He hopes that Achilles will not hate him in the morning or in the days to come. Maybe Achilles will forget all of this? Maybe he will think this was all a crazy dream? Or maybe he will think this was an illusion created by alcohol? 

Patroclus squeezes his hands into tight fists. He buries his head into the crook of Achilles neck. He would love for Achilles to touch him once more with his golden heart and pleasurable lips, but dreams can never be reality, Patroclus knows that. He knows that but…

Hot regretful tears trickle from Patroclus eyes and slowly he cries himself into a restless slumber.


	7. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do not think you are weak, Patroclus. Change is not something a weak person can do. When we first met, you would have never told me about your past, and it takes courage to talk of darkness. It takes something even stronger than courage to live through darkness. It takes strength to live through darkness. Strength to survive. Strength to never give up. You by far are the strongest person I know! Stronger than me. Stronger than your father. Stronger than this whole damn city and the world combined!” - Achilles (A Place To Call Home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, It's been awhile since my last update! I hope all of you are still enjoying this fic and feel free to leave comments or kudos! :) I've been busy lately with tests and homework, and also sick with bronchitis, so I'll try to get new chapters out when I can. The next chapter will include more of Briseis.

A crushing weight is upon Patroclus’s chest and not just an emotional weight from the intoxicated events before but an actual, heavy, physical weight. Confused, his eyes open only to be lost in a forest of yellow vines... No... Not vines… A canopy of golden threads. The threads shine like silk tassels from a fine tapestry. 

The long strands of gold tickle Patroclus's face. He tries to clear the strands away but they only seem to swing back onto his cheeks and forehead. The abnormal pressing sensation of something smooth and soft upon his nose has Patroclus even more puzzled in his situation, especially when a low rumble in the air reminds him of the thunder he heard early this morning. It’s not until a few seconds later that Patroclus realizes the rumble he is hearing is not thunder but purrs of laughter upon his chest.

Suddenly reality strikes Patroclus like a match and he sits up in bed as if struck by lightning! Achilles is thrown off of Patroclus’s body; landing in a laughing heap beside him on the bed. Patroclus rubs his nose and shoots him a curious look, 

“What were you doing?” 

He asks, and Achilles's bellowing laugh bounces off the walls. Patroclus secretly absorbs the sincere echoes like one would their favorite song.

“I was trying to wake you up and it worked! The look on your face right now is too much for words!” 

Patroclus turns his head, quickly hiding the blush that has ignited upon his cheeks. 

“Crap.” 

He mutters under his breath so Achilles cannot hear. Achilles's messy blonde hair and thick muscles which gleam in the rich light of the morning are sending Patroclus’s heart into a fit of cardiac arrest. He can hardly breathe as Achilles grabs a strand of Patroclus’s coiled hair between his fingers and twirls it. Patroclus silently curses himself.

Achilles bounces the strand of Patroclus hair like a spring as he giddily speaks,

“Don't be embarrassed, Pat. Anyone would look the way you do if they were startled awake!”

Patroclus smirks; glad that Achilles thinks his blush is from embarrassment. When Achilles warm fingertips brush the back of Patroclus's neck, Patroclus flinches, and Achilles pulls his hand away as if wounded. He was only trying to put his arm around Patroclus's neck and make a joke of the situation but... The awkward pressure in the room has Achilles feeling on guard and he puts his arm down.

“You know... I am really surprised that I do not have a hangover. I'm also surprised you do not have one. Did you wake up in the night and eat something? Drink some water?

Patroclus shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, hoping Achilles will not remember any of the events from earlier this morning, and he is actually quite surprised himself that he does not have a hangover, especially with the way his head was pounding earlier this morning.

"Huh, alcohol can be weird. Hey, I need a job Pat… Want to go out today? I can buy you some clothes?” 

The blood in Patroclus’s body races as he remembers the faint scratch of Achilles blunt fingernails upon his ribs. 

_“My clothes are very big on you…”_

Wet kisses upon his neck, silent pleas for more friction, the urge to stop but the pleasure to continue. 

The memories have Patroclus shifting his brown eyes away from Achilles and his body tenses. The uncomfortable silence in the air has Achilles looking away as well.

“Look Pat... if I did anything or said anything to you last night that has upset you, I am sorry. If you don’t want to go shopping today then... then that is fine with me. You can stay here! You don't have to go. I honestly cannot remember much from last night. All I truly remember is you telling me about your past and then I carried you to my bed. I accidentally spilled wine upon your bed. I apologize for that as well.” 

Achilles's head lowers to the floor and Patroclus watches as his face tries not to form a frown.

This man who always smiles and acts as if he can concur the world, can he really be strong enough to shoulder his own burdens and the weight of Patroclus in his small hotel room? 

“I’ll go. I’d go anywhere with you.” 

Patroclus says with no hesitance, the words feeling perfect, and Achilles’s face lights up like a firework. 

“I am glad.” 

His words are blunt like the edge of sword yet simple and full of emotion. With no doubt in Patroclus mind he decides that Achilles is defiantly the strongest man in the world.

Patroclus opens his mouth to tell Achilles that he can buy his own clothes, but Achilles grabs his jaw and shuts his mouth, as if understanding what Patroclus is about to say. 

“Don’t argue with me Patroclus. You will not win. I will buy clothes for you and you will accept them.” 

Achilles face is close and Patroclus moves backwards; The guilt and dread of drunken memories still flooding into Patroclus’s mind. He must not show his worry to Achilles or he will wonder what is wrong. Fortunately Achilles is not very sharp first thing in the morning.

Achilles shoves Patroclus's face away with a low chuckle then ruffles Patroclus's hair as if he was a kid and stands. The sheets fall off of his sharpened body in pools of white cotton and he lets out a sighing yawn. Patroclus can’t help but gaze at the muscles that stretch across Achilles's back, arms, and chest as he flexes a long stretch. Each movement that Achilles makes reminds Patroclus of the electricity that moved between him and Achilles. The way Achilles heart felt against his own. His sturdy arms around Patroclus's thin frame. The way his muscles glistened with sleek sweat as he kissed each freckle upon Patroclus's skin.

Without meaning to Patroclus finds his hand reaching out for that sculpted chest. Achilles laughs and grabs Patroclus's hand causing Patroclus to jump with a sharp gasp. 

“It’s fine if you want to…”

Achilles words are low and slow as if he is talking to a wild animal. He guides Patroclus hand to his ribs, then his abs, and with each touch of new muscle Patroclus finds breathing a hard task to do.

“I was born with the will to fight. Fighting is all I have ever know. I fought children when I was younger. I've fought men in college. My father believes it's a gift and a talent, but my mother thinks it is a curse. She does not approve of my fighting, but as you once told me... I am a warrior, Patroclus."

Achilles's voice sounds proud as he guides Patroclus's hand over his broad shoulder, his eyes glinting, and he releases Patroclus’s hand which falls limply to his side. Patroclus dares not speak, afraid of breaking Achilles’s stare. Achilles’s hand drifts in midair, as if he too wants to touch Patroclus’s body, and Patroclus looks down; clearly ashamed of his scrawny body. He lets out a melancholic sigh 

“I have nothing, Achilles. I am not strong.” 

He leads Achilles’s hand to his own chest. He tries not to shiver or twitch when Achilles’s hand touches his body lightly, delicately, like a feather dusting across his skin. Achilles's touch brings many thoughts into Patroclus's mind, and he does his best to force all his memories from their intoxicated dream out of his head, as Achilles continues his inspection.

When he is done, Achilles's tilts Patroclus's head, therefore their eyes can meet.

“You are strong, Patroclus.” 

He says firmly, his gaze determined, and Patroclus wants to believe him. He wants to believe anything Achilles says. 

“I am glad that you decided to stay with me. You have changed. You look more... Alive.” 

He chooses his words carefully and Patroclus unintentionally leans in to Achilles touch like a cat. 

“I have not changed, Achilles. I’m just a filthy nobody. I have no job. No family. All I have is a few dollars and a bleak outlook on life. I am nothing but street scum that mooches off of people like you.”

Patroclus tries to speak with force but his voice wavers. 

“I do not think so, Patroclus. You would never harm anyone! You would never harm me! I speak the truth and the truth is that you have changed Patroclus, for example you have changed here...”

Achilles rubs his hand across Patroclus ribs that use to show in hollow indentations. 

“And here.” 

His hand slides up and touches Patroclus face. He gently strokes his fingers across Patroclus's smooth cheek where stubble was once a dark shadow.

“And here.” 

He grabs Patroclus’s long brown bangs and pulls them up so he can see Patroclus brown eyes. 

“Your eyes...They look brighter....Happier... and here-”

His hand seems to endlessly map out Patroclus’s genuinely healthier body, and he hovers over Patroclus heart before pointing out his finger and pressing it upon Patroclus's chest. 

“You’ve definitely changed here.”

Patroclus isn’t sure what Achilles means. How has his heart changed? But Achilles makes no explanation; instead he smiles and draws away from Patroclus.

“Do not think you are weak, Patroclus. Change is not something a weak person can do. When we first met, you would have never told me about your past, and it takes courage to talk of darkness. It takes something even stronger than courage to live through darkness. It takes strength to live through darkness. Strength to survive. Strength to never give up. You by far are the strongest person I know! Stronger than me. Stronger than your father. Stronger than this whole damn city and the world combined!” 

He smiles and Patroclus nods his head. The atmospheres in the room makes Patroclus dizzy as he watches Achilles shift from his spot and look to the clock. 

“We should leave soon…”

Patroclus nods his head in a dazed response. 

“Could you get some more ice? I’m sure we used it all last night or it has melted.” 

____

Patroclus nods. 

____

“ I need a shower. I’ll meet you in the hall, okay?”

____

Patroclus nods again and Achilles shakes his head with laughter, before Achilles can walk away, Patroclus grabs his wrist and shouts, 

____

“Wait!”

____

Achilles turns his head perplexed by Patroclus's action and Patroclus gazes into his green orbs. 

____

“Thank you, Achilles.” 

____

Patroclus says, but the words feel lost. 

____

Achilles places his hand upon Patroclus's shoulder. 

____

“Thank me for what? Do not thank me. There is no need to thank me. Patroclus, you have changed on your own. You have earned your strength.” 

____

With that said Achilles walks away.

____

When Patroclus hears the bathroom door shut, he immediately runs off the bed, and grabs the ice bucket from the extremely dirty kitchen. He curses as his foot stomps upon the small plastic tweezers from Operation he had played with Achilles last night. When he finally makes his way into the hotel hallway, he slams the door, and collapses behind it.

____

Achilles bold laughter pounds like a chorus of drums in his head and he places his hand on his chest taking deep breaths. 

____

“Calm down…”

____

He whispers to himself. 

____

“Calm down… You can’t feel like this. You shouldn’t feel like this. He’s a friend… You can’t-”

____

Fear, anxiety, and worry painfully crawls up Patroclus's throat in a mixture of pungent wine and cheap crackers. He drops the ice bucket and moves as fast as he can to the railing that lines the outside hallway of the hotel. Relentlessly he releases a vile upchuck of red upon the unsuspecting concrete below. The vomit lessens and soon he becomes a bundle of nerves, sweat, and tears. 

____

In the midst of dry heaving, Patroclus feels the soothing rub of a hand upon his back, and he turns expecting to see Achilles, but is instead meet with a pair of blue eyes and velvet lashes. 

____

“Briseis …”

____

Patroclus’s voice is hoarse and Brieses pulls out a white cloth from her pocket. Gently she wipes away the vomit from the corner of his lips. 

____

“Hello Patroclus.” 

____

She smiles. 

____

The sour smell of alcohol and vomit drifting in the air has Patroclus worried, but Briseis says nothing as she continues to wipe his face clean. When she is done she drops the cloth in front of Patroclus. Her eyes drift to Patroclus chest, her cheeks darken, and she turns her head. It is at this moment Patroclus realizes he left the hotel room in such a hurry he forgot to put on his shirt. 

____

“Sorry…”

____

He mutters and she waves her hand in midair, 

____

“It’s-It’s okay.” 

____

She stutters then forces her eyes to look at his face. 

____

“Uh-You-Want-Ice?” 

____

Her words stumble and Patroclus chuckles, he forgot just how shy this girl is. Seeing him half naked like this is probably pretty shocking. 

____

“I am getting ice. I left my bucket at the door.” 

____

“Okay.” 

____

Her hands nervously fidget with the hem of her pan collared white dress and Patroclus wonder’s if there is anything he can do to make her feel more at ease. Suddenly an idea hits him. 

____

“Hey, Briseis… Would you like to go shopping with me today?” 

____

Her eyes widen. 

____

“Huh?” 

____

Patroclus asks again, 

____

“Would you like to go shopping with me today?” 

____

Briseis’s eyes widen even further. 

____

“Sure!” 

____

She says thrilled then looks to the ground. Clearing her throat as she talks she answers, 

____

“Yeah, I mean sure…”

____

Patroclus smiles, 

____

“Okay, I’ll go put my shirt on and get some ice. I’ll meet you here. Just stay here, okay?” 

____

Briseis shakes her head eagerly, 

____

“O-Okay!” 

____

Patroclus turns down the hall back to Achilles room. A sudden joy is welling up inside of him. Briseis wants to be friends, after all why else would she come with him? Perhaps this friendship will allow Patroclus to rid the way he feels around Achilles. 

____

The hotel door opens and he shuts it with a click.

____


	8. Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briseis and Patroclus's friendship grows strong but Achilles grows a little jealous. Also is Briseis hiding something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for such a late post! I've been busy with the many struggles of life. Look forward to more updates in the future and thank you all for reading my fic! :)

Sitting in the shade casted down from a multicolored umbrella Patroclus has his hands placed upon a cheap, faded green, plastic table. He fidgets and squirms under the passing glances from the strangers walking by. He remembers their stares as he begged for money on the streets; cold, distant, and sympathetic eyes. Only a few people ever looked at him like a regular human being instead of a piece of garbage lying alongside a curb. Those terrible days on the street haunt him just like the scorching sun above. Why did Achilles pick an outdoor mall to shop at and look for a job?

Next to him Achilles has his legs upon the table and is leaning back in a dirty plastic chair that used to be white. His olive skin glows as if he and the sun are in a competition against one another, all to see who is more radiant, however Achilles has no idea of the battle between him and the sun. He just continues to babble on about some fight he won against a shoplifting punk in this mall years ago.

Patroclus usually loves Achilles’s stories of bravery, but right now he just wants to escape. He wants to escape all the wondering eyes, the crowd, the noise, the smells. He wants to escape everything in this busy outdoor space. He needs to escape. If he doesn’t escape soon…

A nervous sweat crawls down Patroclus back. He can feel his anxiety screaming to crawl out. He squeezes his hands tightly together until his finger nails create pink crescents upon his palms.

Briseis is rolling her eyes as Achilles talks with his head held high; oblivious to what is happening around him. She appears bored, with one hand upon her chin and the other on the table. Her skin has bronzed, but only a slight shade darker, just like Patroclus’s own skin. She has opened up to Patroclus today, and he is glad to see her talk to him so much, he just wishes she could get along better with Achilles. All day she and Achilles have been nagging at each other. Unfortunately it seems that Briseis’s kind, quite, and introverted personality does not pair well with Achilles bold and slightly arrogant one. With a small sigh she looks to Patroclus only to see that he has grown frighteningly pale. Her eyes grow wide and she looks to Achilles and then back to Patroclus once more. With a small hush she whispers,

“Hey, Pat let’s go.”

Patroclus shakes his head. They should stick with Achilles. After all Achilles is the one who suggested to go shopping with him, but Briseis grabs Patroclus’s hand and pulls him away quietly. Skillfully they manage to sneak into a little clothing store without Achilles’s noticing. Briseis looks out of the smudged shop window to see Achilles still talking to the sky. She turns to Patroclus,

“Escaping him was way too easy, huh?”

Her voice is a series of giggles but Patroclus says nothing. His head hurts and he could really go for a drink of water right now. As if Briseis can sense what he is feeling she pulls out a small candy from her purse and places it in his hand.

“I don’t have anything to drink, but this will at least help your throat feel less dry. Are you alright? You look a little ill.”

Looking down Patroclus can’t help but laugh. In his hand is a small red candy that is wrapped up to look like a strawberry.

“This is old lady candy.”

He says. Briseis sends him a sharp look and swats the candy from his hand.

“If you don’t want it then I’ll take it back! I’ll have you know that this is my favorite candy and this is my last piece!”

Seeing Patroclus’s offended face, she smiles, and puts the candy back in his hand with a laugh,

“I’m only kidding! You can have it. I just wanted some payback.”

Patroclus’s head pounds even worse and he steps back confused. Has he done something wrong?

“Payback?”

Briseis rolls her eyes.

“Payback, for you taking me to this place with Mr. Hero Complex outside! When you asked me to go shopping with you I thought…”

She hesitates and chooses not to say anything more.

“You thought it was going to be just me and you.”

Patroclus finishes what she was going to say and her faces flashes red.

“Ye-Yeah.”

Her voice shakes. Patroclus looks to the side. The atmosphere in this air conditioned shop feels very warm and also uncomfortable. Trying to change the subject Briseis grabs a peach colored scarf next to her.

“This is a lovely color…”

She says and Patroclus nods his head in a daze; watching Achilles outside the shop window as he smiles with sparkling eyes, completely unaware of the emptiness around him.

“It is a nice color.”

Patroclus says and Briseis smiles, noticing Patroclus’s attention is definitely not on the scarf she is holding between her hands.

“The weather is also quite beautiful isn’t it Pat?”

“Yes.”

“This shop is pretty nice as well.”

Pat blinks,

“Yes.”

Patroclus sighs as Achilles stretches his long arms above his golden head.

“Achilles is also lovely, isn’t he?” 

“Yes.” 

Swiftly Patroclus gasps realizing what he just said. He looks to Briseis in a panic, but she merely smiles and lifts her gentle hand; placing it upon Patroclus's cheek. 

“It’s alright.” 

She says sweetly and Patroclus feels the fear left over from his father’s beatings claw its way into his heart. She softly strokes his cheeks and the fear subsides. How could he ever think Briseis would judge him? Let alone hurt him? 

Her hand stops but she keeps it upon Patroclus's cheek as she speaks,

“I won’t tell anyone. I thought you might like him. The way you look at him reminds me of myself when I once loved my boyfriend.” 

Patroclus looks shocked, 

“You have a boyfriend?” 

He asks. A solemn frown forms upon her face; A face which was so happy just a few seconds ago. She looks to the window. 

“No… Well I mean… I guess…”

Her words are low and soft as her hand drifts away from his face, 

“Hey, how about we have some fun before Achilles notices we are missing?” 

Patroclus is surprised by her sudden change of subject, but he will not force her to speak of her boyfriend. It is none of his business anyways. Instead he nods his he to agree and she grabs his wrist.

“What do you think of these?” 

Briseis asks, holding a large pair of leopard print sunglasses on her face. Patroclus turns his attention away from the door, expecting Achilles to bolt through in any moment, and lightly chuckles, 

“Those actually look pretty good on you.” 

Her teeth flash with a little smile; looking into a rectangular mirror upon the sunglasses display. 

“They do don’t they? I guess I will buy them. Hey, Patroclus could you help me try on this necklace? I can’t seem to get it hooked together properly.” 

Without Patroclus even noticing, Briseis has made her way halfway across the store and has a thin gold chain in her hands. Upon the chain is a tiny pearl pendant encased by two little golden birds. He lifts up her curly brown hair and notices a blue and purple shadow upon her neck. His face grows hot and he’s glad she is facing away from him. He shouldn’t be so embarrassed by seeing a hickey? Of course she might have one; she has a boyfriend after all, so it shouldn’t be this unexpected. 

“Did you find the hook, Pat?” 

Briseis lift’s up her arm trying to help Patroclus and he notices three larger bruises under her arm. Reluctantly, she puts her arm down finding it impossible to help someone from behind. 

Just as Patroclus is about to clip the necklace together a loud boom causes him to trip backwards and land on a display table. He pushes himself up to see Achilles walking towards him. A look Patroclus has never seen before is on Achilles face and he is unsure of what to say as a fist flies through the air, hitting Patroclus square in the jaw. 

“What the hell, Achilles!” 

Pat yells as the warm coppery taste of blood fills his mouth. He wipes his thumb over his now cracked lip and looks down at the red liquid upon his finger. He wants to fight back but is stopped by a pair of securing arms; Briseis. 

“What do you mean, Pat! I’m the one who should be saying, what the hell! Do you even know how worried I was! I couldn’t find you anywhere and I was…”Achilles takes a deep breath as he pants heavily with his hands upon his knees. Just how far did Achilles go? Did he run? 

“I was afraid that you might have run away back into the city! That you left me.” 

Achilles voice cracks as a bead of sweat rolls upon his forehead and falls onto the plush carpet below. Patroclus is not sure what to say. A simple “I’m Sorry” does not seem appropriate. Suddenly Achilles eyes are like knifes and they pierce at Briseis. 

“You! I know you do not like me but...” 

Achilles growls. Briseis shies her eyes to the left trying to avoid Achilles icy stare but his eyes do not budge. 

“Patroclus is not your toy. He may be your friend, but do not drag him around with you as you please. “

His voice is like ice and Patroclus grows angry. 

“Achilles! Stop this!” 

He protests, but Achilles’s eyes connect with the necklace in Patroclus’s hand. For a moment Patroclus can swear he sees a look of hurt in Achilles’s eyes but instead the look is replaced by something smoother. 

“Pat...” 

Achilles breathes, 

“Let’s… Let’s go home. I bought you some clothes so you don't have to worry about shopping anymore today. I’m tired and there are no job openings here. Also I think the heat is getting to me. Let's leave.” 

Patroclus snorts at Achilles excuses and sudden change of attitude. Still a little mad from being hit at, Patroclus is a least a little happy to know that Achilles’s is feeling somewhat guilty for his actions. Briseis, however grimaces at Achilles with her hands crossed over her chest. In her eyes is a look of fear and when Patroclus touches her arm she flinches away, muttering an apology. 

When everyone finally reaches the hotel in a awkward and uncomfortable cab ride, Patroclus tells Briseis that he will walk her to her room. Achilles looks unpleased by Patroclus but makes his way to his room, without a single goodbye to Briseis. 

“What a monster! He looks like an angel but has a thicker skull than a ram and the attitude of a posh, spoiled, overconfident prince! How can you stand being around a person like that?” 

Briseis’s voice shakes with rage but Patroclus can only laugh as they make their way to her room. She looks at him as if he has gone crazy and he laughs some more. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Patroclus wipes a tear from his eye. He has laughed more these few weeks than he has his whole life. 

“What you said about Achilles. He certainly does remind me of a spoiled prince!” 

His laughter grows louder and Briseis shifts a tad from Patroclus. 

“Pat, did he hit you too hard? You’re starting to make me worry.” 

“No! No! No!” 

Patroclus waves his hands. They have reached Briseis’s hotel door and she reaches for the handle with her key in her hand. Patroclus swipes her key away from her and she looks at him even more confused. 

“Pat, what has gotten into you?” 

She grabs at her key but he pulls it further away. 

“Briseis... I’m sorry for what happened today. I hope we can still be friends or at least acquaintances. I'm really glad to know you.” 

He presses the key into her palm and she gives his hand a tight squeeze. 

“I'm glad to know you as well. Don’t worry Patroclus... I had tons of fun today. I’m glad we can be friends and I look forward to spending more time with you just… Be careful, okay?” 

With a smile she has Patroclus smiling back. 

“Alright. I’ll see you later, Briseis.” 

“And I’ll see you, Pat. Now go put some ice on your jaw before it swells.” 

Briseis shuts her door and Patroclus makes his way back to Achilles’s hotel room; rubbing his sore jaw down the hallway. His heart aches and all he can only think about the look on Achilles face when he saw Briseis’s necklace in his hands. Just what was that look? Why did Achilles look so hurt? Patroclus's fear and anxiety looms like a curse. As always it is his ever present shadow.


	9. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles wants to leave town for a while and go on a trip to the ocean with just Patroclus, however Patroclus has different ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What fan fiction doesn't included a trip to the ocean! I'm a sucker for any story that has the ocean in it,therefore I thought the ocean would be a great place for the boys to go. By the way... two new chapters in one week, Wahoo! I feel like I am on a roll! Sadly though the next chapter may take a while to get out. I'm working hard on this fic, but I have to make sure that I keep up with my studies. Finals week is coming up soon. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :)

A week has drawn by since the incident at the outdoor mall and since then Achilles has been withdrawn; which is very odd for him. Patroclus did not mind the silence for the first couple of days but now it is terrifying. Why is Achilles so quite? Why won’t he say what is on his mind? Patroclus has tried talking to him but each time he is only met with a sideways glare or a blank face. Patroclus’s once neutral attitude towards the silence is now starting to turn into dread. Perhaps Achilles hates him? Maybe he should leave? 

To distract himself from his worries, Patroclus moves the T.V from Achilles room into the lounge area of Achilles's hotel room. He wants noise. He craves the sounds that used to be in this room; laughter, giddy conversations, and Achilles’s echoing voice. The way Achilles would roll Patroclus’s name off his soft lips, soothing and bold, is now just a dream to Patroclus. The mere thought of Achilles's calming voice has Patroclus sliding further back into a bean bag he had found tucked away next to an empty suitcase in Achilles’s room. 

_“Patroclus.”_

Achilles voice drifts like a low fog hazing Patroclus’s mind. 

_“Patroclus.”_

The way his voice lingers causes Patroclus to be on the verge of tears. He looks backwards to Achilles, who is sitting at the table with job listings in his hands. The hot droplets of water forming in Patroclus’s eyes sting like fire and ice. He wants to be angry at Achilles, but he can’t bring himself to hate or hurt Achilles. He would do anything for him, even if Achilles no longer has a space for him in his heart. 

_“Patroclus.”_

Achilles voice still speaks to him and Patroclus feels sick. Why must his mind torment him so cruelly? He turns on his side pulling a blanket he had placed beside the bean bag over his head. Hoping Achilles’s will not mind, he clicks the volume up on the T.V, and tries to fall asleep. 

Suddenly his soft dark world under the blanket is pulled away in a flash of light. Patroclus blinks in confusion. The room is brighter and the window blinds are drawn. The T.V has also been shut off. Just how long had he drifted to sleep? Or did he sleep at all? 

“Pat.” 

Patroclus feels a nudge and then a dull pain in his back. He rolls over only to find Achilles sitting next to him; his knee now jabbing into Patroclus's sitomach.The sheer shock of how close Achilles is has Patroclus scrambling backwards out of the bean bag. Awkwardly, he leans up on his elbows to look at Achilles;his legs are still half way in the bean bag. Achilles just smiles like an idiot and lets out a small laugh. It’s as if the situation at the mall never happened. 

Achilles grabs Patroclus by his shirt collar and lifts him into the bean bag like he would a pillow. Achilles’s strength still amazes Patroclus who can’t help but stare at Achilles’s arms as he fluffs up the bean bag around him. At this moment Patroclus realizes that he and Achilles are both sitting in the same bean bag, very close to one another. 

“Let’s get out of town.” 

Achilles’s grin is very wide as he speaks and his breath dances upon the bridge of Patroclus’s nose causing Patroclus’s blood to rush into his cheeks. 

“I’m tired of this city and I miss the ocean. We should go to the beach. What do you think?” 

Patroclus can hardly breathe. Staring at Achilles makes his chest hurt. He wants to hug him but at the same time he wants to slap him. What should he do? 

“Pat, did you hear me?” 

Achilles face looks concerned and Pat can only let out a small wheeze of air. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Achilles laughs; his eyes twinkle with joy but the joy fades when Patroclus finally manages to say,

“No.” 

Achilles’s smile falters, 

“No?” 

“I don’t want to go Achilles. Anyways don’t you have a job to look for?” 

Patroclus forces his words out feeling torn. He has always wanted to see the ocean but… Achilles still has not apologized for what he did in the outdoor mall. He can’t just avoid problems and shove them away. He needs to talk about them. He needs to trust Patroclus. It truly hurts Patroclus to see Achilles ignore the week of silence he put him through. Patroclus takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands. 

He needs to let Achilles know what has been on his mind. Why it hurt when Achilles stopped speaking to him. The pain he went through for a week with only his bitter thoughts to keep him company. He needs to get all of his problems off his chest. He needs to talk to Achilles but…

He takes another deep breath and his words are stuck in his throat. He cannot speak.

“Pat…”

Achilles’s eyes waver between hope and hurt, his voice a mellow note upon a string. Patroclus says nothing, only staring at his open palms, and avoiding Achilles’s eyes. 

“Listen Pat, if it will make you feel better you can bring someone with you? That is… if you are uncomfortable with me. I just want you to be happy and I want to work things out between us. It would be good for us both to get out of this place. Just for a few days. What do you say?” 

He asks and Patroclus ponders upon his words. Maybe this is Achilles way of saying sorry? As if a light bulb switches on in Patroclus’s mind, he lets a grin cross his face, and speaks, 

“Briseis.” 

Patroclus smirks and Achilles’s smile crumbles away, 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” 

Pat continues to smile. 

“I would like Briseis to come with us.” 

The way Achilles’s eyebrows furl and lip twitches has Patroclus regretting his decision, however Achilles’s face presses out, and he nods with understanding, 

“Alright, but we are bringing tents and she is not allowed to sleep anywhere near me or you, understand?” 

Like a child Patroclus smiles from ear to ear. This trip will be good for everyone. Maybe Briseis and Achilles will even forgive each other on this trip. Not only will this trip be good but Patroclus will finally be able to see the ocean! 

“Thank you, Achilles!” 

He says practically bouncing and Achilles waves his hand, 

“You can use my cellphone to call her since you do not have one yet. I’m sure you know her number by now.” 

Without anything left to say Achilles pulls out his phone and hands it to Patroclus. He stands and walks away. Just by looking at his back, Patroclus can see that Achilles does not want Briseis to come, but the fact that he is willing to tolerate her for Patroclus’s happiness has Patroclus wanting to kiss him so badly. 

The thought of Achilles lips upon his own has Patroclus shaking his head and quickly dialing Briseis’s number with rosy cheeks. He has to keep his head out of the clouds. 

The phone rings with four short chimes before it’s is answered by a weird static noise. 

“Hello?” 

Patroclus says and is met with a quiet voice; Briseis. 

“Hello Patroclus.” 

Pat smiles into the phone, 

“Hello Briseis.” 

“So you finally decided to call me. How are you? Is everything alright? I have not heard from you for week since the mall. Don’t tell me Achilles is still mad at you? He moped in silence for a week, didn’t he?” 

Patroclus sighs. Briseis is very keen; of course she would hit the nail right on the head. For hating Achilles so much she sure can read his personality spot on. 

“I’ll take your sigh as a yes. I knew he would be the moping prince kind of guy! He probably feels like his pride has been injured.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Patroclus asks slightly puzzled and Briseis lightly laughs, 

“He hit the princess so now he feels shame. His pride has been injured.” 

Finally understanding what Briseis has just implied Patroclus feels offended. 

“Hey, I am not a princess!” 

Briseis laughs louder, 

“Come on, Pat! He practically spoils you rotten! He bought you clothes. He took you shopping. He is letting you live for free in a hotel room with him. He is letting you eat all his food. You don’t have to pay for a single cent!” 

Patroclus blushes. He did not realize how much Achilles has done for him. Perhaps he should be a little more grateful to Achilles from now on. 

“I still do not see how that makes me a princess.” 

Patroclus tries not to sound to flustered and he can practically feel Briseis rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. 

“Alright, Pat. Maybe you two are both princes. One is just a little more spoiled than the other.” 

“Briseis…”

Patroclus whines and she laughs some more. He called her to ask about the ocean not to be joked about. 

“Alright, what is the reason you called? Did you want to hear my voice or did you have a reason?”

Patroclus clears his throat. Hopefully what he says Briseis will agree to, however he does not think things will go so easily. 

“You see Briseis…. I was actually calling because I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a trip with me. A trip to the ocean… What do you say?” 

There is a long pause on the other end before Briseis speaks, 

“When you say a trip with you… you also mean Achilles, don’t you?” 

Patroclus bites his lip. Of course she would know. 

“Yes.” 

He says weakly and then another pause. He waits. 

“No.” 

Her single answer is a solid chunk of the many things she wants to say. 

“But Briseis…”

“Pat, you are a really good friend, probably my best friend but… I cannot stand Achilles. No matter how much you adore him. To me he is an overly spoiled brat who has no clue of the real world. He’s arrogant, prideful, and boasts too much about his power and strength. He doesn’t understand that power has a cost. Strength has a cost. Believe me I know all too well what strength can do…”

Her last words are a mere whisper and Patroclus wonders what she means, before he tries to beg her to come on the trip with him once more. 

“Briseis, I’m not sure what you are talking about but strength can be a good thing. Strength is not just psychical. It can be mental and powerful. It’s not just muscle. It is courage, hope, and many other things. I think Achilles has helped me gain strength, good strength, and he is not as bad as you think him to be. Just give me a chance to change your mind. Please come with me on this trip to the ocean. You would have your own tent away from him and this could be a good experience for us all. Please, say you will come. Will you go Briseis?” 

The pause this time is so long that Patroclus wonders if Briseis has hung up on him. Surprisingly the quiet is broken by a long sigh and Patroclus hopes for the best. 

“Okay, I will go but only because you are going and I want to see the ocean. I haven’t seen it since I was little.” 

The glee that overwhelms Patroclus’s heart has him grinning so far that his cheeks hurt. 

“Really! You will go?” 

Another sigh from Briseis, 

“Yes.” 

Patroclus lets out a loud shout of delight and Achilles peeks around the corner of the room to make sure he is alright. Catching Achilles’s eyes, Patroclus turns away from him, and hides his red and embarrassed face. 

“I’m glad you are coming with us, Briseis.” 

He mutters low into the phone and she giggles, 

“He saw you getting excited about this trip, didn’t he?” 

Patroclus’s face shifts to an even darker red. Briseis is way too clever for her own good. 

“I’ll call you for some more details later. Hey do you want-”

Patroclus’s voice is cut off but a loud noise in the background of Briseis’s phone. 

“Hey, Briseis what was that?” 

Patroclus asks, but there is no response just static. 

“Briseis?” 

He asks and suddenly another voice can be heard in the distance. A low husky voice that trembles the air like thunder. It’s asking Briseis who she is talking to and Patroclus can barely make out what Briseis is saying to the voice. 

“Just- Pizza delivery- It’s fine- I love- don’t worry-sorry-“

Her words are muffled from being so far from her cellphone. She must have laided her phone down somewhere. Just as sudden as the voice was there the voice is gone. Briseis finally makes her way back on the line. 

“Sorry about that, Patroclus. I will call you later. Don’t call me while I am in my room, okay?” 

Patroclus is absolutely baffled,

“Briseis, what’s going on? Who’s voice is that?” 

“No one important, Pat. I uh…”

Briseis is speaking very rushed, 

“I have to go. Bye!” 

There’s a lonely click as Patroclus’s call comes to an abrupt end. He looks at Achilles’s phone in his hand then at the clock. It’s only noon so he could go over and visit Briseis but… something in his gut is telling him to stay away from whoever’s voice was on the other end of the phone. A little hesitant he decideds that it is best for him to wait here and tell Briseis about the plans later, even though he cannot stop the itch in his brain that tells him he should go. Reluctantly he sits down in one of the wooden dining chairs and grabs onto the dining table. His nails dig into the ledge of the table as the hours tick by and his nerves attack. 

during one of the hours that pass, Achilles sees Patroclus curled in the chair; a mess of anxiety and nerves. Achilles gives him some warm tea. The tea calms Patroclus down and he wonders; what would he have ever done if Achilles had not saved him off the streets? His conclusion is that he would probably be dead by now. Achilles sits by him and does not ask what is wrong. With a gentle hand he leads Patroclus’s head onto his shoulder and smiles softly. 

“You look worried, Patroclus. Relax. This trip will be fun! You know I will always be here for you so…”

He pats Patroclus head and Patroclus closes his eyes. 

“As your best friend it is alright if you cry on my shoulder.” 

A small smile crosses Patroclus’s lips and he soaks in the warm sunlight that has filled the room.

"I missed you, Achilles."

The words gently glide from Patroclus's mouth and Achilles lets out a melancholic sigh,

"I... I made a mistake, Patroclus. The silence was terrible. Do you forgive me?"

Patroclus pulls on a loose curl of Achilles hair then let's his hand fall upon Achilles's lap. 

"Of course I forgive you. You saved my life and I will never forget that. Achilles... I..." 

Patroclus bites his lip,

"Nevermind. I'm sorry... that is... I am sorry for upsetting you into silence."

Patroclus leans in a little further to Achilles's shoulder, shutting his eyes, and relaxing into Achilles's comfort.

If only Achilles could know how much he means to Patroclus. He’s not just a friend or a shoulder to cry on. He is the sun; the sun that only Patroclus can orbit around, he is the light that guides Patroclus away from the darkness of his own mind, and he is the fire that engulfs Patroclus’s heart in a blazing heat that burns in a way that cannot be described by mere words. He is Achilles.


	10. Tidal Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the boys arrive at the beach for their fun vacation and Patroclus finally gets to see the ocean but... things turn from good to bad as the argument from the other day is revived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, things will get happier in the next few chapters. After all one needs a break from angst, trauma, and tears. P.S- I didn't have any finals today, yay!

The sound of crashing waves stir Patroclus from his peaceful slumber. He looks around blinking sleep from his eyes. Blankets of white sand speckled with colorful shells, vast blue water as far as the eye can see, and two red zip up tents fluttering slightly in the wind seem all to unreal at this moment. 

Without a second though Patroclus sits up and instantly puts his hand upon his stiff neck which is sore from very little movement. The dull pain has him realizing that this is definitely not a dream. He is at the ocean and Achilles’s drove him here in a rented car. Just to make sure once more that he is not dreaming Patroclus looks down to find a grey seatbelt still slinked around his thin waist. He lets out a happy sigh and leans back into his seat at ease. The only reason he went to sleep earlier was to escape Achilles’s reckless driving he was stuck in just mere hours ago. Achilles said he could drive but he never said how well he could drive. Patroclus has learned his lesson; just because someone says they can drive does not mean that they should. Right now sleep seems very inviting once more. Maybe he could sleep one more hour? 

As Patroclus begins to drift off again into the comfortable sound of surf, a sudden tap on the glossy car window has him jumping upright in his seat. Smooshing himself against the glass with an ugly face, Achilles puffs up his cheeks on the window, and starts laughing. Patroclus rolls his eyes at Achilles foolishness which in turn has Achilles opening the car door and jumping full force onto Patroclus's body. 

“Come on sleepy head! It’s time to get up and see the ocean! You have always wanted to see it, have you not? I set up the tents so let’s go have some fun, Pat!” 

Patroclus tries to speak, but the awkward position he has found himself in can only cause his words to come out as embarrassing stutters. Achilles is sitting fully on his lap in the front passenger seat with his legs spread, his back is against the glove box, and his forehead pressed against Patroclus’s clammy forehead. The car is beginning to feel like a suffocating oven and Patroclus needs to escape. He wants to escape. If he stays like this much longer… who knows what he will do? 

Filled with joy, Achilles lets out a hearty chuckle, and his chest thumps against Patroclus’s heart. Patroclus swallows back his nervous fear that something will spring up between his own legs and with no other option Patroclus does the only thing he can think of… well the only thing reasonable, besides kissing Achilles’s full on the mouth right here and right now; with one great push to Achilles’s chest, Achilles’s tumbles out of the vehicle, and onto the sand below with a dull thud. His happy face turns to one of disbelief; however that quickly changes as Patroclus points to the ocean with awe. His jaw drops and his eyes sparkle. 

Achilles stands and brushes off his pants. 

“I haven’t seen you this excited since you saw that fig in my hand when we first met!” 

He chuckles at Patroclus; wearing a cheesy grin upon his face. 

“Well go on…”

He waves his hand forward, 

“Enjoy the ocean!” 

Without another word Patroclus makes a mad dash towards the waves; kicking off his shoes when he leaps from the car. The cool breeze tickles his hair and he gladly takes in the familiar, crisp, salty scent of the ocean air that he has only ever smelt upon Achilles. With each footstep closer to the white foam that swooshes upon the shore, Patroclus’s heart soars, and tears cloud his eyes. His dream to see the ocean as a child is finally coming true. It’s real! The ocean is real! It’s not just a picture in a story book anymore. It is here! He can smell it! He can touch it! His feet hit the wet sand before the surf and a wave gently licks his toes. A spark Patroclus’s has not felt in a long time surges through his body and before he knows it he is shedding off his shirt and pants; leaving him in only his underwear. 

The water wraps around his body like warm hands and guides Patroclus further out into the deeper water. He is so overwhelmed by his delightful experience that he does not notice the large wave approaching him. Like a strong gust of wind the wave topples him over and he is flipped underwater. Panic fills his lungs and he exhales his air in horror as more waves topple down upon him. His hands grasp at the surface but he only seems to be sinking further down. 

He should have paid more attention. He knows that he cannot swim. He should have stayed where he could touch but… the ocean felt like it was calling for him; entranced by its sheer magnificence he paid no heed of the danger before him. 

A golden glow catches Patroclus’s eyes and he reaches desperately for the light. Strong hands grab his arms and before Patroclus knows it he is brought to the surface; choking on the saltwater that stings his eyes and nose. Carefully Patroclus is led to shore and he falls upon the sand completely drained of energy. He is thankful for the solid ground behind his back and the rapid movement of his chest as he heavily pants in and out. 

As Patroclus’s breathing finally evens out, he lets out a brief laugh to shake of what just happened, only to be met with a painfully swift punch to his arm. 

“Ow!” 

He winces and grabs at his arm before turning over onto his side to be met with Achilles’s scowling frown. Achilles is sitting straight up besides Patroclus. His eyebrows furrowed, his soaking wet blonde hair plastered back from his swim, and glistening water droplets fall from a few golden strands upon his forehead. 

“You have to stop hitting me when you are upset and just tell me what is wrong, Achilles!” 

Patroclus pushes himself up to sit cross legged. He rubs his sore arm and looks over to Achilles expecting some sort of guilt but Achilles just rolls his eyes and laughs playfully. 

“You’re a prince of sass… Spoiled prince…”

Patroclus mutters under his breath and he is hit with another jab to his arm. 

Worn out from his experience with the ocean Patroclus is unable to stop the flashbacks of his father’s abuse from finding their way into his mind. The way his father would hit him one punch after another is a haunting nightmare. Without any warning Patroclus turns to Achilles and tackles him backwards; pinning him down below him. 

“Stop hitting me!” 

He screams. Hot tears poor from his eyes and fall upon Achilles’s puzzled look; surprised that Patroclus tackled him and wondering if he hit Patroclus to hard. Suddenly he realizes what his punches must have reminded Patroclus of and his eyes widen; Achilles is disgusted by himself. 

Patroclus’s body is shaking above Achilles, and he is unsure if it is because of the cool breeze that now prickles his body with goosebumps, or from the fear that constantly chews on his mind. A look Patroclus has never seen before displays itself upon and Achilles’s face and Achilles’s hands lightly grab hold of each side of Patroclus’s head. 

“I’m sorry. Pat I am so sorry… I’ve ruined your first day at the ocean… I’m sorry… I did not mean to bring back any bad memories. Please forgive me, Patroclus.” 

His words tremble with hurt. For once Achilles’s looks young; his warrior appearance disintegrates like a mighty mountain into thin dust. Patroclus finally understands that Achilles knows. He knows what thoughts crept into Patroclus mind. He knows of the darkness that consumed him in this moment. 

“Patroclus…”

Achilles says his name desperately and the brown eyed boy shies his eyes away. 

“I’m sorry…I… I think we have had enough of the ocean for today. Let’s go to the tent for a while and relax, okay?” 

Patroclus’s eyes still do not look upon Achilles. 

He snapped at Achilles. He tackled him! He promised himself that he would not harm this light! That he would protect this light yet…He betrayed him. 

“Look at me.”

Achilles’s speaks sternly but Patroclus is too lost in thought. 

“Pat-ro-clus.” 

Achilles’s voice lowers and Patroclus cannot help but turn his eyes to Achilles’s lips. He wants to lean in and let Achilles know all that he is feeling. His fear. His worry. His joy. His hurt. His love. He wants to let him know that he is not angry at Achilles but at himself. He wants to pour everything he is into those lips. He wants to forget the world and instead be lost in the buzzing universe that can only be created by Achilles touch, just like that drunken night not too long ago when Achilles held him close. He still misses their friction, their silent pleas in the dark, and the moans of pleasure coursing through their bodies like the thunder roaring in the stormy sky. That time when thinking no longer existed and Patroclus could free himself of his ever present shadow for just a few minutes. He wants Achilles’s happiness, love, and trust to wash over him in a great tidal wave. He wants to suffocate in Achilles’s golden light and sweet whispers. 

Patroclus leans down until his chest is flat against Achilles’s chest. His mind has turned into mush; a disordered mess that he cannot sort out. Not at this moment. Not when he is so close to freedom. Their bodies sticky with salt from the ocean melt together as Patroclus’s face inclines closer to Achilles’s rosy cheeked gaze and his eyelashes flutter. Softly their noses brush and Patroclus parts his dry trembling lips. His breath glides upon Achilles’s lips which eagerly part in anticipation, but when Patroclus looks into Achilles’s eyes, he is met with bewilderment and uncertainty. Reality stabs him; a sharp blade in his chest, and Patroclus rises up so fast that his head fills like a spinning top. 

“Pat?” 

Achilles’s mutters, his voice ringing with apprehension. 

Patroclus’s fists clench tightly to his sides; his palms grow white from the tension. He made a mistake. He upset Achilles yesterday and now today as well. Just now he almost kissed him! He has ruined their time at the beach and it is only the first day. He should have never come here. He should have never agreed to live with Achilles. He should not have fallen for him! He should be straight! He should have listened to his father! 

Unable to stop his tears Patroclus decideds to do the only thing he is good at. He runs. He runs as far as his feet can take him down the beach. He runs even as the sand turns into stones and sharp shells. He runs as his feet bleed from the course shore until he can no longer run anymore. 

Out of breath, Patroclus collapses painfully onto the ground, and he watches the sky through his blurry vision as it changes to a painted sunset of scarlet, violet, and amber. His head hurts. His body hurts. His chest hurts. Maybe it would be best if he just died right here? Half his body now enveloped in icy waves as the ocean cools from the loss of direct sun; just like Patroclus who lost his sun, his light, the warmth that kept him smiling. 

“Patroclus…”

Patroclus hears rocks shift in the distance. 

“Patroclus.” 

The collision of stones and shells being kicked away by long legs is like an avalanche in Patroclus’s ears. 

“Patroclus!” 

Patroclus is turned onto his back, eyes meeting a face filled with worry and hands that tenderly brush back Patroclus’s sand coated hair. 

“I’m so glad I found you.” 

Achilles says relived and helps Patroclus sit up. He notices Patroclus feet and with a disproving hum shakes his head. He sits down and pulls out a roll of bandage from his pocket. 

“I used to play at this beach when I was younger. It’s a good thing I brought this roll of bandage in the emergency kit. Stay still.” 

He smiles; wrapping Patroclus feet with care. 

“Why?” 

Patroclus can’t help his body from shaking but he refuses to cry anymore. He’s burdened Achilles enough. Achilles eyebrow rises quizzically to Patroclus’s question. 

“Why what, Pat? Why am I bandaging your feet? Why am I here? Why what? You know… Why can mean many different things.” 

“Why are you so nice to me?” 

Patroclus’s voice quivers, waiting for the answer that is simplest…Achilles’s just pities him. That has to be the answer. 

Silence follows Patroclus’s question and the only sound to be heard is that of the ocean and a few gulls overhead. Achilles wraps the bandage one more time on Patroclus’s other foot and pins it in. He looks up to Patroclus with the largest smile he can muster and leans back on his hands. He laughs, 

“I do not know…”

Patroclus’s heart shatters even more than before. His face drops down to look upon the small shells that are stuck between the cracks of pebbles and stones by his bandaged feet. 

“However…”

Patroclus looks up. Achilles is still smiling as he scratches the back of his head. 

“I know one thing Patroclus.” 

Patroclus listens intently; all of his focus upon Achilles’s earnest eyes as he speaks, 

“Ever since we met…since the day that you talked to me on the street. I have always felt connected to you somehow. I’m not sure why but... It feels as though I have known you my whole life and I trust you. I do not mean to hurt you. I am not sure how to understand someone who has been through what you have been through but... I would love to learn. I want to know how to help you. I want to know how to stay with you. Patroclus I…”

Achilles’s face slightly flushes and he clears his throat, 

“Patroclus, you are my friend and I do not want to lose you. I keep messing up and I don’t know how you can forgive me but… I will do anything if you can forgive me.” 

Patroclus lets out a choked laugh. This whole time Achilles has been worried over the same thing. They both want forgiveness from the other. They both want to stay together like light and dark. Patroclus clumsily stands; hobbling on his sore feet and then grabs Achilles hand. 

“Come on.” 

He pulls at Achilles’s hand trying to lift him up. 

“Pat?” 

Patroclus nods his head. Achilles’s stands and Patroclus’s releases his hand; fingertips brushing as the two hands part. Patroclus lets out a loud laugh, 

“This is ridiculous! This is the second time we have argued over forgiveness. the last argument was just yesterday! We came here to have fun. Not to continue our argument. I’m sorry about all of this, Achilles. I was a fool to run this far with no shoes and to act the way I did. Not to mention I am an idiot who tried to run away wearing only underwear! Someone is going to think I am a pervert on this beach.” 

Achilles body is frozen in place as Patroclus walks forward.

“Let’s go back to the camp. I am very tired and I would not mind resting for a bit. Briseis said she is going to grab a cab and be here tomorrow afternoon. I will sleep in her tent tonight. Is that alright, Achilles?” 

He walks forward a few more steps but Achilles stays in his place; utterly confused and silent. 

“Achilles…”

Patroclus looks over his shoulder. 

“Achilles, I will always forgive you but… you do not have to forgive me. I will never be who everyone wants me to be. I’m okay with that so… keep that proud smile of yours and do not worry for me. Let's go back to camp.

He turns his head and continues his march to camp. 

“Pat…”

Achilles’s hand reaches forward but Patroclus does not look back. With a shrug of his shoulders Achilles trudges on behind Patroclus; hoping that someday he will understand what goes on in Patroclus’s heart and mind.


	11. Low Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are made up between Achilles and Patroclus but new things arise as well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy almost new years!
> 
> I'm on break right now which is wonderful and i finally finished another chapter! Wahoo!
> 
> Also, I want to say a big thank you for all the kudos and bookmarks you have all gave to me! It makes me happy to know that you enjoy my writing, especially since this is my first fanfiction. Thank you all so much!!!!! :)

Reluctantly the next day arrives much to Patroclus’s disapproval. He lets out a miserable groan as he rolls onto his side. The floor of the tent is uncomfortable and cold. He should have blown up the air mattress to sleep on or at least found one of the three blankets he had helped Achilles pack the day before. He rolls over once more; covering his arm over his eyes to block out the light illuminating from the red tent walls; it is as if the whole tent is a lantern. His blood shot eyes are sore, his mouth dry, and his head pounding. Patroclus feels like a fool; a fool who has hardly slept at all and caused Achilles trouble yet again. 

Gazing at the stars for half the night, rolling restlessly upon the lonely tent floor of Briseis’s tent, crying to the moon for this vacation to be one of only good memories, and worrying over his and Achilles relationship definitely did not help Patroclus fall asleep last night. In fact he is unsure when he had fallen asleep, or how long he had slept, but he does know one thing… He knows that he should quickly find a way to calm himself before Achilles sees him this morning. His lower half is burning and he hates himself for the way it feels and his stupid body. 

Of course his lower half would go crazy like this! His mind was on a roll last night; absolutely mad with worries, fears, and worst of all passionate, desirable, erotic fantasies. Thinking dangerous thoughts during the night of Achilles’s wet lips upon Patroclus’s own, bodies rubbing together in the sand as they sloppily kiss, hair sparkling with droplets of icy seawater, heartbeats matching the thundering waves upon the sand as they thrust and howl into the cold night air like wild beasts. Of course these thoughts have Patroclus feeling rather uncomfortable between his legs. 

Afraid of ruining the tent, waking Achilles who is probably near by, or leaving the tent to have Achilles spot him, Patroclus decides to do the only thing he can think of besides reliving himself with his hand; exercise. Perhaps the movement will distract his mind and his lower half. 

Finishing twenty sit ups and halfway into a set of ten jumping jacks, Patroclus is alarmed by the fumbling noise of the tent zipper being snagged down. He looks at his lower half and… thank goodness the exercise worked! Quickly he wipes the sweat off his body with his shirt and throws it upon the ground. He will just have to go shirtless for the time being. A mess of golden curls pops through the tent’s zipper entrance just as Patroclus wearily sits down upon the thin, plastic, black floor. 

“Good morning, Pat!” 

Achilles’s voice is as cheerful as ever but also very loud; a little too loud for silence of this morning and it causes Patroclus to wince. Achilles notices Patroclus’s action and softens down his tone. His face draws to a concerned frown when he sees the state Patroclus is in. 

“Are you alright, Pat? You look like you haven’t slept at all and your face is very red.” 

Patroclus looks away; embarrassed that Achilles has to see him like this; an emotional wreck who cannot control his sexual desires. 

Achilles prods on and Patroclus wants for nothing more than this conversation to end. 

“Did you have a nightmare? Your eyes are red. You are breathing really heavy too. Are you hurt? Is it your feet? Do they hurt? Are you okay, Patroclus?” 

Patroclus nods his head, 

“I’m fine.” 

Achilles is way too protective. He shouldn’t worry this much for some homeless leech like Patroclus. Just knowing that Achilles cares this much causes a pain in Patroclus’s chest. He is being a burden to Achilles. 

Patroclus backs away from the partially opened tent zipper only to be surprised as Achilles opens the zipper fully, steps into the tent, grabs Patroclus by the wrist, and forcefully pulls him outside. Patroclus blinks in the light, holding his arms up to his eyes for shade, and praying that Achilles does not notice the tear stains that are most likely upon his cheeks from last night. 

Dawn is just breaking into noon. The remnants of a tropical sunrise shinning off the calm ocean resemble fragments of mosaic glass. Patroclus can hardly believe the beauty upon the still water and he stares in wonder at this new world before him. It is as if he has met Achilles all over again; As if he was once again on the streets, starving, weak, and ill, and then standing in the distance once more is a glorious sun, pure, holding a fig, and illuminating the qualities of a hero with such power that he feels blinded. 

The charming bells of Achilles’s laughter reel Patroclus back to reality and he turns to face the man who saved him. Achilles speaks proudly, 

“This is one of the things I wanted to show you this morning. I thought you would love this. Perhaps, this will cheer you up?” 

Patroclus’s nods causing Achilles to chuckle lightly. Suddenly Achilles is smiling, but his average smile is more brilliant than before. Patroclus’s heart skips a beat as Achilles stares into Patroclus’s brown eyes. A strange look is in Achilles’s marvelous eyes. It is a look that Patroclus’s has only seen twice now and cannot describe. His cheeks grow warm as Achilles’s eyes search his face, as if he wants to say something to Patroclus. Achilles’s lips part and finally the comfortable silence is broken with three sturdy words, 

“Come with me.” 

Achilles grabs Patroclus’s wrist once more and they walk down the beach with long strides as if Achilles is trying to beat the sunrise. Patroclus enjoys walking with Achilles like this, hand in hand, the smell of salt fresh upon their lungs. He closes his eyes knowing that Achilles will guide him, but suddenly Achilles stops walking and Patroclus is sent tumbling straight into Achilles’s solid backside. Patroclus gasps, stumbling backwards, however Achilles’s sharply spins around grabs Patroclus’s shoulders to balance him. 

“Walk carefully here, Pat. The second thing I wanted to show you is a little fragile.” 

Achilles grins and Patroclus looks around. Everything is the pretty much the same. The sun is still rising before them, the small tuffs of seagrasses are still moving in the slight breeze, and the gulls are still screeching their hungry morning pleas. In all honestly, Patroclus is confused at what Achilles wants him to see. He shifts his vision around the shore until his eyes fall upon something scratched in the middle of the sand. Without saying a word Achilles gestures Patroclus forward and gives him a slight push on his back. 

Patroclus walks along the large scrapes in the sand to see that the scribbly scrapes are letters. As Patroclus makes his way around each letter he sounds them out loud, trying to figure out what he is spelling. 

“P-H-I” 

He walks around the first three letters; cautious where he steps. 

“L-T-A” 

He stops and gives Achilles a questioning glance, 

“Is this an actual word that I am spelling?” 

So far none of the letters match up in Patroclus’s mind but Achilles’s laughs off Patroclus’s question with a wave of his hand, 

“Just continue, Patroclus.” 

Patroclus sighs heavily, 

“T.” 

His eyes never leave the sand as he finally finishes off the last letters; rubbing his hand through his hair, 

“O-S.” 

Disbelief drips in his voice, 

“Philtatos?” 

This cannot be a real word, can it? 

Achilles can’t help but eagerly grin as he watches Patroclus try to figure out what he has just spelled. Patroclus scrambles to find the word but the word is not familiar to him. With heavy sigh he gives up and gives Achilles the most pleading look he can give. The look earns Patroclus another pleasing chuckle from Achilles. 

“It is a real word, Pat. It’s from my country. You may not know it because it is Greek.” 

Patroclus’s shoulders fall in disappointment. 

“That’s not really fair for me, Achilles. You know that I do not know Greek.” 

Achilles eyes shine. 

“That’s okay. It doesn’t have to mean anything to you yet. I wanted to show you this word because it is special to me.” 

He takes a few steps forward until his body is mere inches from Patroclus’s body. 

“I realized yesterday that I do not want to lose you, Patroclus. When you ran away I... I felt lost. I have never felt like that before and I do not want to feel that way ever again. Patroclus, you are my dearest friend. I want this word to describe our relationship. I want to be a part of your life. I want this word to represent our relationship like a symbol. I know that you do not understand this word but… I will tell you what it means someday. This word… Philtatos…It is the word I think of when you appear before me, and although it is created in this sand and can wash away, I hope that this word remains in your heart, and that it will never be forgotten. Can you remember this word, Patroclus? Can you do this for me?” 

The seriousness in Achilles’s tone has Patroclus nodding his head very quickly to agree. Whatever this word means, it is very important to Achilles, therefore Patroclus will respect it, however he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. Not when Achilles is so close. The utter closeness has Patroclus rubbing his arms together upon his chest. He feels like Icarus; too close to the sun, slowly falling into Achilles’s dark pupils, and drowning in his over flowing rich laugh. 

“Here.” 

Achilles hums, fishing out something from the pockets of his shorts. Patroclus holds out his hands to receive a small shell tied to a thin rope of hemp. 

“A cowrie shell?” 

Patroclus is baffled, but Achilles says nothing and attempts to tie the small shell around Patroclus’s neck. 

The cowrie shell is a cold pebble upon Patroclus’s collarbone compared to the heat that rushes through his body as Achilles’s fingers gently brush the nape of his neck. His heart is racing as he looks down at the glossy shell Achilles must have searched for. He wonders when Achilles’s made this necklace and when he found the shell. Did he stay up all night making this necklace? Did he make the necklace this morning? How long did Achilles’s strong hands fumble with the small shell, trying to place it on the rope, and make it just the right length to tie around Patroclus’s neck? His eyes drift back to Achilles; he is once more met by the unfamiliar look from earlier. Achilles finishes tying the last knot of the hemp and backs away. Patroclus body instantly feels cold, that is until Achilles’s extends his arm towards Patroclus’s chest. With a light touch Achilles’s fingers hold the shell upon Patroclus’s collarbone. 

“I am glad. This shell suits you, Patroclus. It looks very nice on you.” 

His words are a whisper of satisfaction; aching with a strange tinge of something else. Patroclus wants to ask what, especially as a faint dusting of pink creeps upon the bridge of Achilles’s nose. The urge to kiss the golden man before him is yet again spiraling through Patroclus’s mind and he curses himself for allowing such thoughts to appear in his head. 

Blind to the mental breakdown happening before him, Achilles’s shows off his ever handsome broad smile, and he gently tucks a loose curl of Patroclus’s brown hair behind Patroclus’s ear. His fingers glide from the shell to Patroclus cheek in a tender caress. Patroclus leans into the touch and holds back a shudder as Achilles’s finger tips hit the back of his ear; the touch sends shrills up his spine. He has always been sensitive behind his ears. 

“Do you like it?” 

Achilles asks, looking down and gesturing to the necklace. Patroclus ponders for words; lost in Achilles’s presence. 

“Ye-yeah.” 

He coughs and Achilles laughs; waves of happiness engulfing both of them. Patroclus awkwardly laughs with Achilles until he can laugh no more. He falls upon the sand in a blubbering pile of breathy laughter, tears, and pure joy. The terrible memories of yesterday disappear into empty echoes. Each bad memory is replaced with sand, surf, and a laughing Achilles beside Patroclus who has also fallen to the ground in a heap of glee. The word “Philtatos” is accidentally swished away in the sand, but Achilles and Patroclus don’t seem to care. The world around them has faded away. 

Without warning Achilles is suddenly on top of Patroclus; pressing his forehead into Patroclus’s forehead with a large grin. Their bodies are covered in gritty sand and Achilles’s hair tickles Patroclus’s bare skin. Blush spreads upon Patroclus like a wildfire. The joyful laughter quiets down until all that is left is the faint sound of the waves behind Patroclus’s head. Achilles’s does not move; his green eyes burning small specks of gold into Patroclus’s plain brown eyes. 

“Achilles?” 

Patroclus whispers but Achilles says nothing; his pink tongue darting out between his dry lips. His face lowers and Patroclus’s breath hitches. Memories from yesterday pour down like rain, however what is happening now feels different from those bad memories. Right now everything feels… good. There is not one thing clawing at Patroclus’s mind as his body relaxes below Achilles's smooth chest. Even with his eyes now closed Patroclus can still feel a longing intensity in Achilles's gaze. Gold specks linger behind Patroclus eyelids like a dozen radiant stars. 

Achilles lips are mere inches from Patroclus’s lips and for once Patroclus feels content. Even if this contentment will last only a moment... this mere moment will last a lifetime. Patroclus is okay with that. He knows that even if Achilles holds him… he will someday fall. Achilles can try to catch him but he will only slip through Achilles’s fingers, just like the sand below. Achilles is the sun and Patroclus will only burn away in his glory. 

“Achilles…”

He murmurs, edging Achilles for the inevitable kiss that lies before them. Achilles’s nose softly nuzzles against Patroclus’s faintly freckled nose. 

“Pat… I… There is something I need to tell you…”

Warm air grazes Patroclus’s lips and he struggles to hold himself back from kissing Achilles. 

“I…”

Patroclus has never heard Achilles’s voice this weak. He strains to hear what Achilles will say next when suddenly another voice has Achilles scrambling off of Patroclus in a quick scattering mess. 

“There you are!” 

The voice hollers and Patroclus recognizes it instantly; Briseis. 

Briseis stands in the sand, confused, and holding onto her straw hat. The cream ribbon upon the hat’s brim flows like the waves and she smiles faintly. 

“You two look out of breath. Are you out for a morning run?” 

She asks and Patroclus can’t help the relieved sigh that escapes his body. She didn’t see them. 

“Are you alright, Patroclus?” 

Patroclus realizes that neither him nor Achilles have answered her question. He looks to Achilles, thinking that he is shocked by the situation, but Achilles’s looks unfazed. In fact Achilles looks the same as he always does, proud, arrogant, and heroic. The prideful blonde speaks loudly to Briseis as some hungry gulls fly overhead,

“Patroclus is fine.” 

Briseis’s eyes sharpen at Achilles’s words. She speaks like a vice, 

“I wasn’t asking you.” 

Quickly Patroclus has his hands out trying to stop the fight that is bound to happen. 

“I’m fine, Briseis. Don’t worry.” 

He tries to assure her with a smile. The smile works and she smiles back, 

“Alright.” 

Then with a scowl her smile turns to a frown and she glares Achilles down like he is a plague.

“I’ve unpacked my things in the empty tent. Someone’s shirt was in there so I threw it in the other tent. If you dare step foot in my tent Achilles… I will not show you mercy.” 

Her threat rings clear, however Patroclus is curious to what Briseis would do if Achilles was to step into her tent? 

Achilles nods back and adds in, 

“Fine. You are not allowed in my tent either.” 

She snarls, 

“Good.” 

Achilles growls back, 

“Fantastic.” 

Their cold stances have Patroclus feeling uneasy. Hopefully this trip will not feel like this the entire time. 

“Ummm….”

Patroclus steps forward. There has to be something he can do to lighten this mood. 

“How about we go back to the campsite? We can start cooking lunch or play some volley ball or something?” 

His words hover in the air. Briseis and Achilles glare at one another with crossed arms. Finally they both catch Patroclus’s words and look to him. 

“Sounds good.” 

They say at the same time and Patroclus wants to laugh at how silly they are being, especially when they let out an angry “Tsk!” at each other. They remind Patroclus of two grumpy children he saw on the subway before. 

Briseis grabs Patroclus’s right arm and Achilles grabs his left. By some hidden agreement they both walk with Patroclus, however every once in a while Patroclus can feel slight tugs at his arms as the other tries to pull Patroclus closer to them than the other. 

“This is going to be a long day…”

Patroclus sighs and Briseis’s and Achilles’s eyes snap to him. 

“What was that?” 

Briseis asks and Patroclus shakes his head with faint snicker, 

“Nothing.” 

Yep… this is definitely going to be a long day.


	12. High Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To hate or to love? Both Achilles and Patroclus struggle with their emotions but finally come to an agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO UPDATE THIS FIC!!!!!!! I have been very busy and this chapter is very long. These babies deserve happiness, love, and so much more than I can put into words so.... enjoy! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon!
> 
> WARNING:  
> *sex

Today is a ticking time bomb as the hours drag forward slowly in the sweltering summer heat. With each second that passes the heat escalates with a relentless torture; it drifts in nearly invisible waves that tickle one’s flesh and gathers sweat upon one’s brow. On the beach, a storm brews between Achilles and Briseis, while they compete against each other in a game of beach volleyball on the burning sand; like two warriors in a colosseum they battle as if they are fighting to the death. The intense glares created between the fiery blond and blue eyed girl are silent threats; Threats of intimidation that strike faster than lightening and lurk with hidden talents and pure focus.

Tired from his recent activity of racing Achilles, Patroclus finds himself feeling very weak, and desperately wishing for a cool breeze, or at least some pleasant shade to cover his now bronzed skin. He sits upon the sand, wiping sweat off his forehead, and chugging down lukewarm water from a plastic water bottle; the cheap plastic crinkles in his grip and he cringes at the unpleasant squeaky noises that come from the bottle when he detaches his mouth from the bottle’s top. He lets out a frustrated moan, sneering at the cursed sun that makes his mouth feel like sandpaper. He doesn’t understand how Achilles can still look unaffected by the suffocating heat as he sends a flashy smile Patroclus’s way. His eyes are gleaming with the determination of victory as he strikes down yet another powerful serve from Briseis.

Achilles and Briseis run back and forth with swift endurance in front of Patroclus. It seems they have been at this battle for far too long and Patroclus can only wonder how much longer he will have to wait for a champion to emerge from this battle. He squints at the ocean behind the competitive pair for a different view; a distraction from the repetitive scene of serve, strike, dive, that is playing before him, however he is only met with a sharp pain in his eyes as the sun reflects off the sapphire water like a blinding light shining off a mirror. He rubs his eyes, trying to clear the sun spots from his vision, and looks back to Achilles and Briseis. The waves have increased on the sand and they lick at Achilles’s and Briseis’s bare ankles. High tide is has begun to steadily creep up the shoreline with plumes of cream colored seafoam, yet Achilles and Briseis continue to play their powerful game. Achilles spikes the volley ball once more with his open hand, causing it to plunge down into the sand across the line that divides Achilles and Briseis’s makeshift volley ball court. 

Ever since the trio arrived back at the campsite and decided to play some ‘harmless games’ as Achilles put it, Briseis and Achilles have been playing harsh versions of simple, innocent, games that Patroclus would have loved to join If the two would only calm down for a little while. He tried to join them in racing, but only ended up with feet rubbed raw by the burning sand and a bruise upon his knee from tripping on a tangled mess of seaweed. After his fall Patroclus gave up on the games. He’s never been good at sports and understandingly Achilles suggested Patroclus be the judge of the games. Of course Patroclus could not say no to Achilles stupid grin and now he regrets his naive agreement. If he had said no then he probably would not be sitting here, melting in the sun, and most likely becoming more dehydrated than a fish out of water. Right now he could be sitting in the cool saltwater of the ocean or in the comforting shade of his and Achilles’s tent, not watching Achilles and Briseis challenge one another over and over again. One of them will have to accept defeat and Patroclus knowns that neither of them want to lose to the other. 

Achilles has won the first three games against Briseis, mainly due to his sheer skill with sports and his brawny muscles. Briseis has won two games so far because of her quick thinking and surprising design talent. Apparently Briseis has a hidden talent for art. She beat Achilles by a landslide in the sand castle building contest. Patroclus judged the castles and was very impressed by Briseis’s castle. Not only did she build an extraordinary sand castle, she also built a dragon, and a draw bridge that closed with a pulley system that she made out of old fishing line and drift wood that she found on the beach. 

As the sun drifts towards the middle of the horizon, Patroclus becomes even more bored of the reckless volleyball match in front of him. His eyes grow heavy and drift towards Achilles’s gleaming body. Achilles laughs in the sun with a whole hearted joy upon his rosy cheeks as he strikes down yet another powerful serve from Briseis. The man’s body shines with a sheer layer of sweat; his muscles tighten and fold in ways Patroclus can only remember from the drunken morning he and Achilles had spent together. The way Achilles looks right now has Patroclus in awe. The man is so flawless in every way he moves; from the way his shoulder muscles roll when his arms hit the ball with rippling force, to the golden wisps of hair stuck to his forehead, and even to the way his toes curve in midair as he jumps from the sand to pounce at Briseis’s strikes. He is golden, fearless, and invincible. Achilles looks like a greek god! 

Without meaning to Patroclus finds himself hoping that Achilles will win this battle. As if he could sense Patroclus’s admiring gaze, Achilles’s shifts his eyes away from Briseis, and gives Patroclus’s an encouraging wink; as if to say “do not worry Patroclus I will win”, however as the hours continue to linger, Patroclus once again grows tired of the game, and leans into the comfortable darkness that lies behind his eyelids. His head slumps onto his chest, his arms that were folded upon his chest fall to his lap, and the last drops of water from his plastic bottle drip upon the ground in small damp spots upon the dry sand. Just as Patroclus is about to fade into unconsciousness, he is startled by a loud scream, and his body rushes with adrenaline. He snaps his head in the direction of the scream to see Briseis lying on the ground and Achilles besides her apologizing frantically. The sharp cries of Briseis pained voice has Patroclus jumping onto his feet instantly; Flashbacks of his past threaten to escape his locked mind as he runs. 

“I am so sorry! It was an accident!” 

Achilles keeps repeating. Briseis continues her loud ear splitting scream that fades into silence. 

Nearly tripping on his forgotten water bottle, Patroclus finally makes it to the scene, and he squats down besides Briseis’s trembling body. He carefully turns Briseis’s face in his hands only to see bright red upon her now tanned skin. His stomach tightens but he tries his best to ignore the feeling that stabs at him like a dull knife. Briseis blinks at Patroclus with tears in her eyes. She looks lost. Her eyes are glazed and empty; a look Patroclus knows to well from his own eyes in the mirror. She is reliving a nightmare inside her head and there is nothing Patroclus can do to help. She’s bleeding, hurt, scared, and there is nothing he can do! At least that is what Patroclus thinks until Achilles grabs his hand and pleads for him to help. 

“Patroclus, you have to help her! Please, I know you can help her!” 

If Achilles believes he can help then… Patroclus will do his damn best to help Briseis! There has to be something he can do! What did he learn when he read all those first aid textbooks when he was younger? 

“Face… Injuries… bleeding… fractures… pain…”

Patroclus rambles to himself searching for an answer and Achilles stares at him as if he has gone mad; perhaps he has but… Patroclus has no time to think of that right now! He has to do something! Anything! Like the strike of a match a solution sparks into his mind and he inhales sharply. 

“Achilles!” 

His brown eyes dart to Achilles with such focus that Achilles cannot help but let out a small gasp; he stares back like a soldier waiting for his captain’s command. Patroclus speaks sternly, 

“Bring me a bucket of seawater, a cloth, and some ice.” 

“Got it!” 

Achilles nods and swiftly takes off towards the tents. Patroclus gently lolls Briseis’s head upon his lap. She whimpers softly as he touches her face; examining the damage with thoughtful fingers. 

“You’re alright, Briseis. I’m right here. You are going to be okay.” 

He whispers calmly. Briseis cannot hear him. She is lost in the mysterious labyrinth of her mind. 

Achilles returns rapidly from his task, so quickly that Patroclus is surprised he did not forget anything, or that he did not spill any of the water from the small bucket he holds in his arms. 

“I could not find the paper towels so I grabbed one of my old shirts. Will a shirt work?” 

His voice shakes and Patroclus lets out a laugh, 

“Relax Achilles. It will do just fine. Now… just sit down and wait, okay?” 

Achilles’s rolls his eyes. He hesitantly sits down on the other side of Briseis. The blonde straightens his back and crosses his arms over his chest with his chin up; trying his best to look unfazed by the situation, but Patroclus can see through his proud like posture. Achilles may appear to be a godlike warrior; but he is a human just like Patroclus. He has his faults just like anyone else. Hurting Briseis probably feels like a low blow to Achilles. 

Tenderly Patroclus wipes away the blood around her nose using Achilles’s seawater soaked shirt. The grey material of Achilles’s shirt muddles with the drying brownish red liquid of Briseis’s blood. She winces at the sudden sting from the salt upon her wound. Once all the blood washes away, Patroclus sets Achilles’s shirt aside, and settles his hands on both sides of Briseis’s nose. 

“I think it’s broken. This may hurt a bit so try not to move too much. I’m going to be as gentle as I can. I’m sorry Briseis.” 

Patroclus shifts his hands and with a loud, 

_“Crunch!”_

Briseis instantly breaks free of whatever nightmare she was trapped in with a horrified yell, 

“Hector! No! Stop!” 

Her words quiver upon her lips into silent echoes, 

“No…no…no…” 

Patroclus firmly grips her arm and Achilles’s watches Briseis with wide eyes. 

“Briseis? Briseis you are alright now! I have fixed your nose. There is nothing to fear! You are okay! Briseis…”

Patroclus’s voice is clear as a chiming bell; it rings away Briseis’s muddled thoughts with a caring concern she has never heard from another person. Suddenly she realizes where she is and sits up abruptly. Patroclus releases her arm and he grabs the small slivers of ice that have melted in the sun. He places the glassy pieces in the cleanest part of Achilles’s old shirt, wraps them up, and hands the slightly chilled homemade icepack to Briseis. 

“How do you feel?” 

He asks, but of course he knows the answer by the fear that swirls in her large pupils. 

“I... I’m fine. A little sore but… fine.” 

The lie comes out in small shakes from her raspy voice and her face is eerily calm. She shrugs her shoulders and wipes loose tears from her eyes. Her fingers lightly brush against her nose causing her to wince, but she lifts the makeshift icepack even closer to her nose, and smiles wearily through the pain.

“Thank you, Patroclus. My nose really stings but it’s not unbearable.” 

Patroclus smiles bashfully and a feeling of pride rushes through his body. His face turns towards Achilles who is sharing a similar smile; however Achilles’s smile hides a glint of something thoughtful between the dimples on his cheeks and his sun chapped lips; something gentle that simmers like the low heat of dying embers, yet is as lively as the flames that sprout from those glowing coals. His kind smile has Patroclus itching at the back of his neck with a flushed grin. Patroclus wrings his sweaty palms together with curiosity and nerves. Damp sand left upon Patroclus’s skin roughly scrapes against his hands as he rubs his palms together, but he does not care. Patroclus is lost in Achilles’s sweet smile and chiseled face that beams with pride; pride that is only for Patroclus and a rich smile that is also only for Patroclus. Achilles continues to stare at the brunette mess in front of him. Once again Achilles has Patroclus feeling very hot and uneasy. Patroclus shifts on his feet until he can no longer bear the silence and shoots his eyes towards Briseis. He hopes Achilles will take the hint and fortunately he does. Achilles’s eyes hesitantly switch from Patroclus to Briseis and then the blonde clears his throat, 

“Briseis…”

Achilles’s strong smile fades, 

“Briseis, I am...that is… I’m not very good at saying this kind of stuff but… I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me.” 

His apology spews out in slur, cheeks as red as apples, and he sucks in a sharp breath like he stepped on a thorn. Patroclus has to hold back his laughter at Achilles’s childlike apology. Achilles expects Briseis to accept his apology and so does Patroclus; however both of them are shocked as Briseis turns her head away from Achilles and says, 

“I am tired. I’m sorry Pat but…”

She shifts back and forth on the sand, looking down at her feet as she continues to speak. 

“I think I have had enough fun for today. I think… I think I will go to my tent now.” 

Her words lack any emotion and sound like a voice message recording on a phone; rehearsed, hollow, and dull. Without any other words to say she begins her walk to the campsite. 

“Briseis, wait!” 

Patroclus runs in front of her placing out his hands. He tries to stop her from leaving, but she pushes his hands away with a small frown, and shakes her head. 

“Pat, your hands are filthy… I’m sorry but I really need to rest. We can talk later, okay? Please, step aside. I wish to be alone for a while.” 

Understanding that Briseis needs space, Patroclus forcefully nods his head, and with nothing more to say she disappears; a shadow in the distance as she enters her tent with a sullen sigh. As soon as her figure is completely out of sight, Achilles and Patroclus’s look too each other with the same baffled expression, and Achilles throws his arms in the air with a frustrated groan, 

“She hates me!” 

Achilles shouts as his fingers dig into his scalp and he pulls at his golden tresses. 

“Now Achilles…”

Patroclus tries to calm Achilles but is only met with a look of ice. 

“She hates me, Patroclus! I just wanted to make this vacation work with all of us, but I keep screwing it up, and she hates me! I am done with this foolish trip! If she can retreat to her tent for the rest of the evening then so can I!” 

Achilles spins around towards the direction of the tents, but Patroclus grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks; blood and sand smears upon Achilles’s sculpted skin in an ugly smudge of brown and crimson. He looks to the smudge with disgust, but softens his face when he notices the furrowing of Patroclus’s eyebrows, and the worried creases that have formed upon the brunette’s forehead. 

“I’m sure that Briseis does not hate you, Achilles.” 

Patroclus talks with confidence, 

“She is just a little upset right now. Maybe we could both try to talk to her tonight? Let’s just give her some time to calm down first and then all of us can have a chat. Does that sound good? We can still make this a wonderful trip! You just made a little mistake but that can be fixed.” 

Patroclus tries to patch things up with a toothy grin; however Achilles’s pulls Patroclus’s hand off his arm, sighs with aggravation, and rubs the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“Patroclus…”

His voice is a low rumble; a warning that he no longer wants to hear this subject. 

“I want to believe you but… I think she truly hates me. I mean why else could she not accept my apology?! She also treats me like I am an enemy. Have you seen the way she looks at me? She looks at me as if I’m a plague. Her expressions give me the message that she clearly does not like me being around. She-”

Patroclus tries to interrupt, 

“She probably doesn’t mean for her expressions to come off that way, but…”

Achilles sharply cuts him off, 

“Patroclus!” 

He turns around and Patroclus scoots back as to not be knocked over by Achilles hasty turn. 

“This is tiring and useless! Please, stop making excuses for her! Let’s just give this a rest for tonight! She hates me and that is that. She has never liked me from the first day we met. I shouldn’t have brought her along with us but I just wanted to make you happy. Now can we stop talking about her? I do not wish to hear any more about Briseis for the rest of the night!” 

Achilles shouts, his hands fly in the air again, and Patroclus frowns. This conversation is going nowhere with Achilles’s stubborn attitude in the way. 

“You let Briseis come with us so that I could be happy, yet you do not want to settle things with her, when that would also make me happy! You say you want me to be happy, but how can I be happy if the two of you only fight with each other on this trip! The games were fun for you two, I could tell by the smiles upon your faces, but they were also just competitions to see which of you are better than the other and that is ridiculous! To me you both are my dearest friends and I do not like to see my friends fighting! Achilles, you really should settle things with her. She is not a heartless person! You can fix this!”

Achilles dramatically sighs, 

“Pat, the troublesome things between Briseis and I are not going to be fixed in one night! If things can even be fixed at all... I… I’ll talk to her in the morning if that will make you happy.” 

Patroclus smiles, 

“It would.” 

Achilles rolls his eyes at Patroclus’s cheeky grin. 

“Fine, then I shall speak to her in the morning.” 

Glad that he has won this argument Patroclus decideds that maybe it is best he retires to the tents like Briseis. With all the drama that has just occurred, it would be nice to just sit back and relax in the shade without any worries; however his thoughts of peace and relaxation are tossed away by Achilles sudden suggestion. 

“Let’s drink, Pat.” 

Patroclus blinks and shakes his head as he registers Achilles’s words. 

“Drink?” 

He blinks some more and Achilles smirks. 

“Yes, I brought some beer that I smuggled from one of the guests at the hotel. I was hoping that a little drinking could help smooth things out between all of us but… I guess it’s a little too late for that now… It would be a shame for it to go to waste, so how about we just get rid of some of it right now without Briseis. I mean… I really would like a drink right now. What do you say? Want to have a drink with me, Pat?” 

The sudden change of subject throws Patroclus for a loop, especially as Achilles irresistible green eyes drill into his, and he is finding it difficult to say no. This situation is so familiar that Patroclus can’t help but chuckle Achilles’s name into his hand. 

“Achilles…”

His determined voice threatens to break and he lowers his hand down to his side. Memories of the drunken morning not to long ago drift through his mind. 

“I don’t think that is a good idea, right now. Anyways I’m not in the mood to drink.” 

He protests but Achilles draws closer to him and places his forehead upon Patroclus’s forehead. 

“I am serious, Achilles.” 

Patroclus mumbles under his breath looking into Achilles’s eyes. He can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine as Achilles edges even closer. If he drinks with Achilles, will another incident such as that morning not so long ago happen? If that does happen…will he even be able to bear the guilt of kissing a drunk Achilles twice? The last time he could hardly control his body when the golden man barely touched his skin. If they were to drink today, would he be able to control himself? Patroclus gulps and Achilles watches Patroclus’s adams apple swallow down fear and hesitation. 

“I am serious too, Pat-ro-clus.” 

Achilles’s voice is as soft as silk in Patroclus’s ears as he tries to persuade Patroclus into drinking. His nose brushes Patroclus’s freckled nose and the unexpected closeness has Patroclus’s feeling like a melting popsicle. 

“This is supposed to be a calm and enjoyable vacation, right Pat? A few drinks would be very nice for a tropical vacation such as this. The drinks are ice cold and just waiting to be opened…” 

The mere mentioning of a cold drink has Patroclus’s dry mouth suddenly drooling. He closes his eyes and imagines the refreshing liquid running down his parched throat. 

“I want to drink them with you, Pat. Anyways when was the last time we had fun drinking together? Do you remember the night we played bored games? We had so much fun until we passed out. You beat me at so many and I couldn’t stop laughing because you made me feel like an idiot.” 

Patroclus sharply inhales as memories flood his mind; plastic bones, empty glasses, rich laughter in the air, hands upon his skin, warm and tender lips caressing his own, soft moans and- Patroclus quickly opens his eyes. Achilles is staring at him waiting for an answer and all Patroclus can do is stare at those dry lips in front of him, pouting, in a thin pink line. There’s no use… he can’t escape his memories of that night nor can he refuse the beautiful man before him. He will take the risk. He will drink with Achilles. Not for his own satisfaction but for Achilles, and with the hope that this night will fade away the previous drunken memories Patroclus has been holding onto. 

“Achilles you must promise me that you will talk to Briseis first thing in the morning, okay?” 

Achilles’s smirks, 

“If it will please you then… yes I will.” 

His words are honest as he stretches his arms over his head. His bones crack in small pops as he stretches, he rolls his neck, and then with a small smirk he gives Patroclus another pleading glance. Patroclus hates his heart for beating so loudly at Achilles’s words and he spits out his decision before he can change his mind, 

“I will drink with you, Achilles.” 

With Patroclus’s approval of drinking, Achilles lets out a loud yell of victory, and rushes to the cooler that is located inside his and Patroclus’s tent. When he returns Patroclus tells him that they should move their drinking party away from camp as to not bother Briseis. Achilles disagrees at first, but eventually the blonde scoots their drinking area downwards on the beach. Before Patroclus can open a bottle of cold beer, Achilles has him gathering sticks, insisting that they start a small fire before it gets dark so they can stay warm. When Achilles gets the fire going, the sun has set, and the warmth from this afternoon has been replaced with the chill of the evening as shadows replace sunlight. 

The sky fades from blue to black in mere minutes. The remnants of the dusk are slightly visible on the horizon as Patroclus sits on a large piece of driftwood big enough for two people that Achilles has dragged near the fire. His hands are shaking and he lifts them up to the flickering flames; grateful for the warmth as his body violently shivers. Who would have thought the temperature would drop so quickly after the sun went down. He really wishes he had put on his shirt back at camp and maybe some pants, instead of wearing his thin swim trunks; which there was no reason for him to wear today in the first place since he did not swim. 

The velvet sky shows pinpricks of white stars as Achilles hands Patroclus a beer by the flickering light of the fire. The can of beer is covered in wet drops of condensation and the liquid is no longer cold, but Patroclus doesn’t seem to mind. It has been to many hours since he finished his water bottle on the beach and his thirst is intolerable. Not sure what the amber liquid tastes like and extremely thirsty, Patroclus throws back a swig of the warm beer, and wrinkles up his face. He realizes too soon that warm beer is not good at all. He also comes to the conclusion that he does not like beer. The taste reminds him of stale bread and spoiled fruit that has over ripened to the point of molding. With another big chug, Patroclus downs more of the beer, and his face changes to a queasy green as he cringes. 

“Would you like a water? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, Pat!” 

Achilles’s laugher echoes in the air as he notices Patroclus’s ill stricken face. Patroclus laughs in embarrassment. 

“No I’m fine… I want to drink it. I’m thirsty and this is the only alcohol you brought. I want to drink with you so… I’ll bear through this.” 

Achilles’s eyebrow shifts upwards in a look of concern and Patroclus brushes the look away. 

“I’m fine Achilles. It’s not that bad if you don’t mind the taste of something rotten and I taste enough of your rotten cooking every day.” 

Patroclus jokes and Achilles’s makes a look of offence cross his face, but the look is soon broken by laughter he could not suppress. 

“Is my cooking really that bad? Maybe I should get a job at a restaurant and learn how to cook? Can you imagine me trying to serve some fancy customer!? Ha, they would sure be in for a surprise!” 

His laughter reaches even higher volume and the driftwood shakes under Patroclus’s bottom. Patroclus thinks that the shaking is from Achilles’s laugh; however he is surprised when the laughter dies down and the wood still shakes. It is at this moment that Patroclus realizes that the wood is not moving from Achilles’s laughter, but it is moving from his own shivering body due to the cold. 

“I’m cold.” 

Patroclus says out loud by accident and Achilles suddenly sheds his own shirt to place over Patroclus’s head. 

“Whoa!” 

Patroclus doges the shirt but Achilles is faster. 

“Hey, stop moving!” 

The blonde complains as he tries to maneuver his shirt over Patroclus’s trembling body and Patroclus continues to squirm. 

“Achilles! Achilles stop!” 

Patroclus is laughing; his beer clattering to the ground in a forgotten mess. The amber liquid pours onto the sand like a small water fall. 

Patroclus manages to get one of his arms in the shirt when the wood below him and Achilles’s slides backwards; sending the pair overboard in a giggling tangle of limbs upon the ground. 

“No, no, no, my right arm is in the shirt already, Achilles!” 

Patroclus can hardly breathe from laughing so much as Achilles’s messes with his arms. 

“Achilles! I can dress myself!” 

Patroclus pretends to whine and the blonde places his hand upon Patroclus mouth. 

“Shhh... I’ll get it, Philtatos.” 

He chortles back at Patroclus and Patroclus can’t help his body from shuddering at the word. Achilles’s fingers stroke his back and Patroclus’s instantly freezes in place. The musky smell of sweat, campfire smoke, coconut sunscreen drowns his senses as Achilles’s shirt is pulled over his head. The collar of the shirt presses into Patroclus’s nose and can he can faintly make out the odd smell of sandal wood and vanilla that Achilles’s constantly smells of. The cotton fabric settles against his body with comforting warmth. The blush that appears on Achilles’s cheeks causes a stirring in Patroclus’s gut and he is thankful that Achilles’s shirt is very long on him. The shirt covers Patroclus’s lanky body all the way from his shoulders to his knobby knees leaving only his neck and the bottom of his legs exposed to Achilles gaze and the cold night air. Achilles flops onto his back on the sand and Patroclus does the same. The world is comfortably silent except for the sound of the waves upon the sand and the occasional snaps from the spitting fire. 

“You would never believe it but… I know a bit of astronomy.” 

Achilles voice is a surprise and it wakes Patroclus from the drowsiness that was beginning to take over his body. 

“Huh?” 

Patroclus did not hear Achilles very well. He portrays a look of guilt causing Achilles to laugh once more. Patroclus gladly soaks in his laughter; fine music to his ears. With his fist in the air, Achilles points out his finger, and closes one eye. 

“That is the big dipper.” 

He says before his finger glides to another batch of stars. 

“That’s the little dipper and...” 

Achilles softly grabs Patroclus hand in his and guides it towards a pinprick of light. 

“That is the star named Betelgeuse.” 

Patroclus can’t help but laugh and Achilles laughs with him. 

“Yeah, it has a funny name. It sounds like that Halloween movie that plays in stores every October.”

“Have you seen that movie?” 

Patroclus asks and Achilles ignores his question. His emerald eyes peek at Patroclus before looking back at the sky. Their hands fall loosely upon the sand but Achilles’s hand does not separate from Patroclus’s hand, instead his grip tightens, and Patroclus welcomes the warmth surrounding his icy palm. 

“The star Betelgeuse is in my favorite constellation. This one above us… do you want to know the name of it?” 

His face shifts to Patroclus and suddenly everything feels to close. Patroclus dryly gulps, 

“Sure…uh yeah…”

His swears his voice cracks and thus he curses himself. Achilles is so close to him, their hands are still together, and they are lying under a starry sky… Patroclus could not ask for a better sight then that of Achilles next to him, eyes as wide as the moon, hair sprawled upon the ground like rays of sunshine, and his bare chest slowly rising and falling in the pale moonlight; he is soft, beautiful, strong, and suddenly sliding even closer to Patroclus. 

“It’s getting colder.” 

Achilles’s mumbles and Patroclus gasps when Achilles leans his head upon his shoulder. 

“My favorite constellation is called Orion. Some people call it the hunter constellation but to me it looks like a warrior. Suits me, right?” 

Patroclus wants to laugh but his stomach feels like a tight knot and he finds himself unable to produce a single chuckle from his lungs. It feels as though a brick has been set upon his chest and he can hardly breathe. His response comes out in a wheeze, 

“Yeah… It suits you.” 

Achilles laughs at his short response, 

“You are not much for words right now. Are you getting tired, Pat?” 

He asks and Patroclus feeble nods his head. Tired… Yes, he must be tired. That is the only reason his head feels fuzzy or maybe that is because of the alcohol? No. No lies. He does not need to lie to himself. He knows why he feels like this… If only there was a way he could turn off his heart, because right now it is beating faster than it ever should. 

“Pat…?”

Achilles glances up, thinking Patroclus has fallen asleep, only to meet his nervous eyes. 

“You okay?” 

He asks and Patroclus can only nod once more. Achilles removes his hand from Patroclus shaking fingers and Patroclus wishes that Achilles’s warm hand would not leave his. Lightly Achilles touches Patroclus’s cheek and Patroclus leans into his touch. His clammy skin brightens to a light shade of pink where Achilles’s fingers linger. Patroclus is glad that the moonlight contours his face in pale colors of grey and white which absorb the pink from his blushing face. The waves upon the shore are a faint melody in Patroclus’s ears compared to the beating of his heart and the small huffs of breath that escape Achilles’s parted lips. 

Everything is slow and quiet like an old silent picture film. The waves churn like a rolling film reel as Achilles’s face leans forward with dark grey stains upon his cheeks. His face is full of wonder and confusion like a boy who has just seen a magician perform some kind of splendid trick. Patroclus moves cautiously as his lips close the distance between his and Achilles light grey lips. Achilles’s thick blonde eyelashes appear white in the moonlight and flutter as his eyes form into small crescent slivers then completely shut. Patroclus’s lips tremble from the stillness of Achilles’s lips that taste slightly like beer and strangely honey. 

Scared, Patroclus is about to back away; until Achilles’s strong arms gather Patroclus in a tight hold. The golden man’s arms snake around Patroclus’s waist in a gentle embrace as his warm breath pours into Patroclus’s mouth from parted lips. Their lips move together in sluggish greetings of teeth and sloppy kisses. Patroclus sighs into each kiss as Achilles’s sturdy hands rub up and down his ribcage. The world around Patroclus fades into nothing but darkness as the man before him drowns his body in a blinding light of lust and desire. Without thinking, Patroclus pushes Achilles back in the sand, and he climbs upon his chest.

Their kisses turn more feverish as Patroclus straddles Achilles’s body. Achilles's warm hands cup Patroclus’s face, tangling his fingers in the chestnut brown hair above him, and he hums into each kiss as emotions wildly pour through each other's souls. Achilles looses all control of thought. he has never felt like this before... So alive, electric, and hungry. He could eat the world raw and still it would not be enough without Patroclus, right here in this moment, kissing him under a sky of constellations.

When Achilles’s tongue darts from his lips and finds its way into Patroclus’s mouth, Patroclus can’t help but moan, and press his tongue into the warm sensation of Achilles’s mouth. The tightness in Patroclus’s gut is almost unbearable and his mind clouds over with want, but he manages to keep himself from rutting into Achilles. He does not want to accidentally ruin this innocent moment, however as his tongue brushes against Achilles’s pearly teeth, Achilles lets out a small whine and Patroclus finds it hard to stop his hips from moving; he accidently ruts into Achilles and the friction is overwhelming. With much control Patroclus manages to stop his hips from moving, but finds the friction unstopping when Achilles’s hips suddenly lift upwards into Patroclus’s hardening erection. The pleasure is too much and sends Patroclus’s mind spinning over the edge of sanity.

Achilles’s grip tightens in Patroclus hair as he lets out a loud and needy moan from the back of his throat and his back arches off the sand. His mouth goes to Patroclus’s neck and begins to suck at the light grey flesh with light nibbles and small pecks.

The cool night air is too hot and Achilles’s struggles to remove his swim trunks while lustily taking in the view of Patroclus's body as he pulls off Achilles’s shirt through passionate kisses. Hastily Patroclus removes his swim trunks. Bare as the ocean before them and painted like watercolors in the pale moonlight, their bodies melt against one another in soft and fluid movements, as they envelop the dim hues of orange and scarlet light from the embers of the forgotten fire that is near them. 

Carefully Patroclus takes Achilles in his hand and strokes him gently as one would a delicate flower. Intoxicating sounds bounce from Achilles's lips into Patroclus's own lips with each stroke and flick of Patroclus's wrist. He squirms and bucks under Patroclus's touch, while Patroclus treasures each stuttering breath Achilles makes, and embeds the look on Achilles face into his mind as Achilles gasps below him with pupils more vast than the dark ocean. The golden man's lips form into small O's as their hips swing together and bodies entwine in ways neither could ever imagine.

“Patroclus… Pat… Patro- Pat-ro-clus…”

Achilles voice is a low whisper in Patroclus’s ears as their bodies rock back and forth like the waves of the sea, toes curling, and skin coated in small drops of sweat; shining in the dim light.

“A-Achilles…” 

The darkness around them is becoming a brighter and brighter white light in Patroclus’s eyes as his hazed vision can hardly stay focused on Achilles’s face. The friction between them increases more and becomes a static explosion that sends Patroclus overboard. He falls beside Achilles becoming lost in the white light of the moon that over takes his vision. Achilles shudders with a cry of pleasure into the night air and rolls onto his side. The golden man is panting heavily, as if he ran a marathon, and with half lidded eyes he scoops Patroclus back into his arms. They breathe heavily against each other’s chests until they are calm enough to speak once more, however no words are said, and Patroclus slides his head from Achilles’s shoulder down to his chest where he can hear the secure rhythm of Achilles heart. The silence is shattered by the calm clarity of Achilles rich voice, 

“I never thought we would…”

He sighs and Patroclus looks up wondering what Achilles is going to say, but is only met with silence once more and the drumming of their hearts. Patroclus tries to say something, but no words will come out of his swollen lips, and he is thankful when Achilles’s once again speaks. 

“Patroclus I… I wanted to tell you a while ago… I planned to tell you but… I tried on the beach several times and I thought about telling you at our home but… I couldn’t get the words to come out… I’m not sure how to tell you what I want to say…”

Fear suddenly strikes Patroclus and he tries to shove himself away from Achilles but cannot seem to get his limbs to work. His arms and legs stay in one place and his body does not move. He is completely paralyzed with thoughts of guilt and fear. 

_Achilles is going to tell me that he is straight. Achilles doesn’t love me the same way as I love him. Achilles didn’t want this. He hates me. What have I done? What have I done! I should have listened to my father. I deserved the beatings. I deserved them! I don’t deserve Achilles. I should be straight. This isn’t normal. I am not normal. He hates me. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this! My father was right! I’m not normal! Achilles hates me! He doesn’t…_

Patroclus fights the tears in his eyes as his body beings to shake uncontrollably. Sobs erupt from his body and his lungs hiccup for air. His arms are finally starting to work again and he tries once more to push himself away from Achilles, only to be held even tighter to the man’s solid chest. The feeling of being trapped is only making Patroclus’s panic attack worse and he flails his arms and legs in Achilles’s hold. 

“Pat! Patroclus, calm down! Patroclus, I’m right here. You’re okay. I’m not going to harm you. Are you having flashbacks? It’s okay... hush… it’s okay…”

Achilles’s ignores the pain of Patroclus's sharp heels hitting his naked skin. He gently pets Patroclus head as the brunette crumbles in his embrace. His hold loosens as Patroclus finally grows limp and looks at Achilles with desperate bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. 

“Hey…”

Achilles says in a low whisper and brushes Patroclus’s cheek in his hand. Patroclus replies back with a weak whimper and Achilles gently kisses the worried crease on his forehead. 

“You’re safe now. I am right here with you. I’ll never let you go, Patroclus… I… I love you, my Philtatos.” 

Darkness engulfs Patroclus’s worn out mind. He slides into the peaceful unconsciousness of sleep with the satisfaction that he is being held together by the one he loves, the golden man with emerald eyes, a warrior of pride, the man who can banish shadows with a few words and a radiant smile, Patroclus’s brave and thoughtful Philtatos; Achilles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the music I listened to when writing this chapter:
> 
> Halsey- Young God  
> Troye Sivan- Youth
> 
> There were more songs but I might post them later...


	13. Briseis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings, distrust, and conflict are ever present in Briseis's life. Little does she know just how present these are in Patroclus's life as well. Will the problems between her and Achilles ever settle and just how long will she hold in her secrets?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama, drama, and more DRAMA!!! Mwahahaha!!!! Sadly things can't stay cute and cuddly forever. Anyways, the story must go on... I hope you are all enjoying this fic! Feel free to follow me on tumblr: geekasaur1380
> 
> I try to post links of my new chapters on there so everyone can stay updated with the recent chapters. Also I reblog a lot of different things from anime, food, japanese things, video games, t.v shows, and much more...

Briseis is unsure of how many hours she has been sitting upon the floor of her tent, her knees drawn to her chest, and her head tucked between her legs. The tears have long stopped falling from her pink tinted eyes; underlined with violet. The night air is cold; pinching small goosebumps upon her tan skin with its icy hands, however she does not mind the cold. She welcomes it. After all, it is better to feel cold than to feel nothing at all.

The flashbacks of her last two relationships cause nothing but heartbreak to Briseis’s lonely heart. Her current relationship with her ex brings only nightmares. Nightmares that haunt her with horror beyond compare and pain… so much pain. 

She scrunches up her nose and slides her knees even tighter to her chest. Her arms encircle around her legs as she folds further into herself. Imaginary, invisible, sharp knuckles suffocate and smack away any good dreams from her mind. Chaotic nightmares wake her as soon as she closes her eyes. All she can do is breathe and wait. Wait for morning to come. Wait for Patroclus to come back to camp. Wait for Hector to read her note. Wait for the new nightmares to come when Hector finds her. 

Maybe Hector has not read her note yet? It has only been a day since she left. Perhaps, he still has not noticed that she is gone? She could run away! She could leave him! She could leave him and all his stinging fists! She could abandon his words! Words; that like bullets left scars dwelling beneath her skin. He would not be able to capture her if he cannot find her! But… he always finds her. There is no point in running from Hector. He is smart. He is fast. He is the toughest man she knows besides Achilles. 

“Achilles…”

Briseis snarls the golden man’s name through her bared teeth. 

It is his fault that she and Patroclus are camping at this desolate beach. She couldn’t leave Patroclus alone with this man. Also, this opportunity to spend time with her new and closest friend seemed too good to miss, yet she was a fool. How could she have thought that maybe Achilles is not as bad as he seems? That the incident in the mall was nothing but an accident? She should have known that after Achilles hit Patroclus in the mall he would have no remorse in hitting her… yet he tried to apologize, didn’t he? Should she have accepted his apology? After all Patroclus trusts this man. Should she trust him as well? 

She could try to trust Achilles but that would be useless. The golden man is nothing but a lie of tarnished silver that now rusts into dull bronze. He was never gold. He was never the virtuous warrior he has appeared to be. No man is respectable, benevolent, or compassionate. Warriors, knights, princes in shining armor… all of those are myths! Men are vicious, lying creatures, that only care for themselves and will do anything to get what they want! All men are like this except…

Brown curls appear in Briseis’s thoughts. She smells the light sent of Earth and pine that Patroclus usually smells of. She sees honey colored eyes of brown and amber… chestnut to those who do not look deep enough… and she whispers the man’s name who brings her comfort; the only man who is good in this forsaken world. 

“Patroclus…”

An aching in Briseis’s chest causes tears once again to collect upon her eyelashes like drops of dew upon a spider’s web. Sobs threaten to rip her apart as she cries into the empty darkness that has filled her tent. Once her sobs die down, she is surprised, as sudden sound catches her ears. It is a jarring sound similar to the vibration of cicada wings. Quickly wiping her eyes, she hesitantly crawls towards her tent door, and unzips the cheap plastic zipper. She pokes her head out and notices a faint light upon the beach table that has been set up on the sand. The shrill sound stops and the glow fades away briefly after. 

Letting curiosity get the best of her, Briseis pulls herself up, and slides out of her tent. Her long hair tangles in the zipper of her tent before she can close her tent door. With much trouble she manages to untangle her hair out of the zipper, then carefully she makes her way over to the table to see a sliver box lying on the surface of the table. As she gets closer she realizes that the silver box is a cellphone. Patroclus does not own a cellphone and her cellphone is in her bag inside her tent. This cellphone can only belong to Achilles. 

Patroclus told Briseis a couple weeks ago that Achilles’s does not have a lot of friends. In fact, Patroclus told her that he is sure he is probably Achilles’s only friend. So who could be calling him? She wants to know but… Briseis is not the kind of person to snoop into other people’s business, however maybe this involves Patroclus? 

Her hand reaches for the phone and her fingers tremble on its smooth screen. All of a sudden the phone buzzes again, with a little chime of some familiar tune, and Briseis pulls her hand back as if she was burned. On the phone’s lit up screen is a small green phone icon with the words, 

_Voicemail-Thetis, One new text message from Thetis: “I left the money on the table. I love you, my dear Achilles.”_

scrawled out beside the icon. Who is Thetis? Does Achilles have a girlfriend? Is she his girlfriend or is this person a man? Does Achilles have a boyfriend or is this just a friend of his? Just who is this person named Thetis? 

Briseis thinks about touching the phone again but… decideds that it is better if she does not pry. Patroclus would probably not approve of her doing such things and she does not want to cause him any more trouble than she already does. She turns to go back to her tent when an approaching shuffling noise startles her. She looks to her tent and then at the fire. The fire is closer to her than her tent, and may provide safety, or at least some kind of form of protection besides thin plastic sheet walls of her flimsy tent. 

The blazing fire in the middle of the campsite is now nothing but a small patch of flames and smoke. The tiny blue and orange tipped flames lick the sky as if dancing from a dragon’s tongue. Each trifling scrap of light creates a yellow hue in the darkness that surround Briseis. Hoping that whatever is approaching may be scared of the measly fire, she picks up one of the sticks laying on the outside edged of the flames, and holds it up as a tiny torch. 

“Who’s there?!” 

She asks in a demanding voice; hating the way her voice quivers. No one responds and she asks again, 

“Who’s there?” 

Still no response and the shuffling proceeds to get even louder as it gets closer to camp. Briseis curses under her breath and swings her torch. Unfortunately her torch goes out and the tip turns to ashes upon the sand. Her mind races for an idea of what to do, until all she can think of is to run away from the danger, and hope that Patroclus is safe on the beach with Achilles. Her legs tremble in anticipation to flee but are stopped short when the shuffling stops on the outside edge of the camp.

“Briseis?” 

A voice says from the dark and Briseis rolls her eyes. It is only Achilles. Worry collides into her like a heavy weight and she looks around desperately. 

“Where’s Patroclus?” 

Achilles’s sighs and takes a step forward into the light. Patroclus is held in Achilles’s arms as one would hold their new bride. His head is resting on Achilles chest with a bedhead of windblown hair and rosy cheeks. There are two large bruises on his neck and one on his collar bow, followed by marks of red skin on his stomach and ribs. He reeks of the ocean and sand is laced on every part of his bare skin. 

The image that Briseis sees causes her to fall to her knees with relief and fear; Glad that Patroclus is back at the camp, but scared that something has happened to him. Without any words to Achilles, she stands, and rushes over to Patroclus’s side. His swim trunks trickle water like a leaking sink, as Briseis examines his face, and notices the swelling of his shut eyelids and his restless breathing. He has been crying and Briseis is pretty sure who made him cry. 

“What have you done?!” 

Her eyes are daggers and Achilles’s glowers at the menace in her words. 

“I have done nothing wrong.” 

He assures her but she only glares harder; pressing her lips into a thin frown. 

“He is hurt. Is he not?” 

Achilles does not reply. 

“I’m asking you, Achilles! What happened?! Did you do this to him?” 

She looks him up and down and notices the way Achilles’s god like appearance falters for a second; his blank face edging up with a faint, proud, smile. 

“And if I did?” 

He asks. 

“What would you do, Briseis? Call the police on me? Fight me? Kill me? I can assure you…”

His face twists into a scowl that matches Briseis’s own, 

“I did not hurt him.” 

The fury that rises in Briseis is like a mad storm. This man is a liar! If he did not hurt Patroclus than what happened? Achilles shifts on his feet and moves his grasp on Patroclus. 

“Briseis,” 

He stares into her raging blue eyes with eyes like the calm of a hurricane, 

“I want you to understand that I will never hurt him, I have never hurt him, and I will never put Patroclus in danger. I’m on your side.” 

His voice drips with honesty but Briseis has a hard time buying his clever words. She crosses her arms and takes a stand against the brawny man before her. 

“If you’re on my side…”

Her steel glare does not budge from Achilles’s stone carved face, 

“Then let Patroclus sleep in my tent tonight.” 

The air is thick with silence and Briseis clears her throat. 

“If you are truly on my side, Achilles… Prove it! I do not trust you with him. If you want me to be on your side, then I am going to have to trust you, and you are going to have to trust me. Let him sleep in my tent tonight so you can gain trust in me.” 

Briseis waits for her answer but Achilles’s does not make a sound. What is he waiting for? The quite continues until finally Achilles lets out a gentle laugh, 

“You remind me of someone, Briseis.” 

He says and his laughter dies away. Solemnly he shakes his head, his blond hair waving in front of his face like a flag in defeat, and his eyes dodge Briseis’s gaze to stare upon the sand below his feet. 

“I cannot do that tonight, Briseis.” 

His voice sounds tired and coated with an emotion that Briseis can’t explain. Once again Briseis’s body surges with anger and she kicks the sand in frustration. 

“You want to be on my side but you have no trust in me! How can we be on the same side if you can’t even trust me with Patroclus for one night? He and I are friends! We share trust. We listen to one another. He treats me like no one ever has. Yet, you will not even listen to me! You throw away my requests like one would toss away garbage! Achilles…”

His eyes meet hers, but do not flinch away even as she steps closer to him, and she slaps him across the face with the back of her hand. 

“We are not on the same side! I love him more than you ever could! Whatever you have done to him tonight… You will regret it! I will talk to Patroclus in the morning and he will tell me everything! Be good to him tonight and let him rest. If I find even one little scratch on him…”

Briseis thinks of Achilles’s phone on the table and the text message upon its screen, 

“…I will not hesitate to tell Patroclus about who you really are. He loves you Achilles… and he can hate you just as passionately! Do not force me to tell him the truth about your little secret! It may ruin any bond you have with him.” 

She threatens Achilles and he blinks in confusion. With a long and irritated sigh, Briseis turns to take her leave, but is stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder; Achilles hand. 

“Briseis, what are you talking about?” 

He asks, but she shrugs his hand off her shoulder, and walks away; she only looks back as she hears Achilles adjust Patroclus’s head on his shoulder and Patroclus lets out a small grunt. With nothing more to say she slinks back into her tent and lets her nightmares wash over her once again. She will have to leave the beach tomorrow before Hector finds her note. She has to go back to the hotel even though leaving or staying will make no difference to her. There’s a brute in her hotel room and there is a brute on this beach. All she can do is hope that Patroclus will not be stuck in the same situation as she is and that he will be able to escape on his own pair of wings; besides… her wings were taken a long time ago and she could not help him even if she tried. He should never have to suffer what she has suffered through. 

Wearily her head hits her soft pillow and she wraps herself tightly in her sleeping bag. 

“Please… Be safe… Patroclus.” 

She mutters as her nightmares finally take hold of her and guide her into a restless slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to the song Impossible Year by Panic! at the Disco while writing this chapter... and lots of other music such as some 80's and 2000's hits on Pandora.
> 
> Sorry this chapter was so short but there will be more to come in due time. Hopefully I can get another chapter out soon. I just started spring break today, therefore I should be able to get some much needed free time to write.


	14. Listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are revealed and Patroclus continues to struggle with his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual things are getting serious in this story. I hope you are all enjoying this fic so far and continue to read it. Thank you all for your support! I'm really glad for the all the kudos,the bookmarks, and the knowledge of knowing people read my fic! Enjoy this new chapter! P.S- This chapter is pretty long. I wrote thirteen pages for this important chapter.

Patroclus gradually wakes upon his navy blue sleeping bag with light happy mumbles. He can hardly remember the last time he has slept this well. The briny taste of seawater is lingering upon his tongue as he breathes out a heavy morning yawn. He rubs his dry lips together tasting even more of the ocean's salt from the crusted edges of his mouth. 

This morning is a dense fuzzy haze and it feels as if something important has happened but… Patroclus slept so well that he cannot recall what may have happened. His mind feels foggy with sleep as he drowsily rubs his eyes. For some reason he cannot escape the weird smell of musk and sunscreen that is lingering in the air. Just what is that strange smell and why is his body sore? He rubs his cramped muscles, eyes roaming over his aching body, and damp sleeping bag.

Why is he not under the warm covers of his sleeping bag? Why is his sleeping bag wet and littered with sand? More importantly… why is he still in his swim trunks?

Uncomfortably twisting his body Patroclus shifts around in his spot. He manages to pull himself halfway up on his sleeping bag. Trapped on the corner side of the tent, leaning on his elbows, and maneuvering his body in the tiny space, Patroclus shivers as he tries to cocoon himself in his sleeping bag’s inner layer of plush fleece; however a heavy weight upon his sleeping bag stops him from pulling at the thick top cover. 

Sleeping only a few inches away from Patroclus is a lumpy figure. Patroclus wipes away the grime that has formed in the corner of his eyes and makes out the naked flesh of Achilles’s sculpted chest. Suddenly all the things Patroclus thought were fragments of his own dreams crash into him with the crushing force of reality. Patroclus lets his body fall backwards upon his sleeping bag as he absorbs his memories from yesterday.

He held Achilles hand and Achilles held his.

He kissed Achilles and Achilles kissed back.

They made love to one another upon the sand.

And after everything… 

After all the sweet affection and tears….

Achilles said,

_“I love you, my Philtatos.”_

A sudden burst of emotions has Patroclus wheezing out a silent scream of confusion and delight. His hands scrape at his arms with blunt nails as he squeezes his body. He does his best to keep his tears from falling. Pure nervousness, glee, and fear make a tight knot in his stomach. His joy stumbles around in his mind; a lost piece of human emotion trying to find its place among his rotten anxiety. Finally it finds its place and a weary smile spreads upon Patroclus’s pale face.

“Patroclus, are you awake?”

Achilles’s voice drifts through the silence and brings color back to Patroclus’s face. His warm hand lightly prods the space between Patroclus’s ribs and Patroclus’s can’t help but let out a faint giggle. Achilles snuggles close to him and the air around Patroclus becomes hard to breathe. A muscular arm is placed over Patroclus’s waist with a thoughtful hum.

“Good morning Patroclus…”

Achilles’s musical voice plucks the strings of Patroclus’s wavering heart and he looks sideways at the man who has placed his golden head upon Patroclus’s tanned shoulder. Noticing Patroclus’s shaken state Achilles’s lightly kisses Patroclus’s arm. He stays silent, waiting for Patroclus to say something, and gazes into Patroclus eyes with concern. The small grin of reassurance upon Achilles’s face is veiled by his own unease.

“Do you regret it?”

Achilles’s asks, startling Patroclus with the question and the strength of his words. Patroclus blinks back with owlish eyes. He chews on the question; biting his lower lip as he searches within himself for an answer. He feels frightened and trapped upon his small square of blue sleeping bag. He has never been this close to someone; except for that drunk night he and Achilles's had spent together. He should feel happy being this close to the man he loves but… everything is so new, exciting, and fast… Patroclus is not sure what to feel, therefore he leans back on his most familiar emotion; fear. After all who wouldn’t feel scared after everything Patroclus’s has been through in his life? Yet… He also feels strangely happy right now. Should he feel happy? What he did on the beach… that wasn’t normal right? It felt normal though… It felt good. It felt right. It felt perfect.

With a sigh Patroclus shakes his head. This is all so confusing. He has never felt like this before and he is not sure how to tell Achilles what he wants to say in words. He had a feeling similar to this in grade school when he kissed the boy on the playground. When he kissed that boy… things fell to ruin, but when Patroclus kissed Achilles… Things felt whole, new, fixed, and incredible!

What Patroclus did on the beach with Achilles… he would gladly do it again. He would love to do it again! In fact, he cannot imagine not doing it again. What he did… What he and Achilles did… It was beautiful! It was normal. It is part of who Patroclus is. He finally understands... This entire time, Patroclus only thought of himself as a broken puppet in society. He was moving along by the strings people pulled for him. He was only expressing himself like a copycat by following the ways other people enjoyed their lives, surviving by the ropes that others pulled, but now he can cut himself free of his strings! The puppeteers were all wrong. They were always wrong. 

Patroclus finally feels like he has found his place in this world. His place is at Achilles’s side. He feels as if he is half of Achilles soul. No matter what the risk are, the threats, or what the world thinks, Patroclus will never again accept a life without Achilles; a life without love. He will always remain this way with Achilles.

Patroclus leans against Achilles’s body.

“I do not.”

His words are simple; guiding peace onto Achilles’s tense face. Patroclus nuzzles his head into Achilles’s neck and watches his chest flush like a blossoming flower.

“Do you regret it, Achilles? What we did.”

He asks and gentle laughter meets his ears,

“No.”

Achilles smiles into his words,

“And I will never regret this.”

He kisses the tan skin between Patroclus’s bangs and Patroclus can still feel the heat of Achilles’s lips as he pulls away. Achilles lays a gentle hand upon Patroclus’s cheek and Patroclus stares at the man before him with the large black pupils glittered with gold. Achilles’s eyes feel like a black hole and Patroclus finds himself slowly being pulled in to them. He kisses Achilles’s lips tenderly while lightly placing his hands upon Achilles’s cheeks for better leverage as he tilts himself upon his elbows; Deeping the kiss but causing Achilles’s to wince and flinch away as if in pain. 

Frightened that he went too far Patroclus opens his eyes to see that his fingers are pushing into a purple smudge upon Achilles’s cheek.

“You are hurt?”

Patroclus’s is astonished and grazes his fingers upon the tender violet flesh. How did Achilles, a man made of stone, acquire such a bruise as this? Patroclus’s thinks of the time on the beach and his lips sucking on Achilles’s flesh.

“Did I… Did I do this? I am so sorry, Achilles. This will not happen again. I’ll try to be more careful from now on.”

Achilles looks almost hurt and swipes away the tears starting to form in Patroclus’s ashamed eyes.

“Do not be sad. Patroclus, you did not do this. Don’t worry so much. I am fine. It’s just a little bruise.”

He speaks soothingly, even as his face turns into a scowl for a fraction of a second, and he grumbles under his breath,

“It was a brooding seagull…”

Patroclus cannot help the laugh that escapes his throat as he makes out Achilles words.

“A seagull!”

He exclaims back at Achilles and rolls over onto his back.

“Achilles’s I find it hard to believe a seagull attacked you!”

He continues to laugh. The image of Achilles battling a seagull upon the sand is just too hilarious to pass up and Patroclus hardly notices how close Achilles’s is, until Achilles’s arm snakes around Patroclus’s waist, trapping him in a tight embrace.

Achilles’s lips faintly brush against the side of Patroclus’s neck and Patroclus lets out a soft happy moan as Achilles’s tongue brushes against the shell of his sensitive ear; sending shivers up Patroclus’s spine. Just as Patroclus can feel a tingling pleasure begin to rise in his lower half, a noise outside the tent has Patroclus sliding away from Achilles, and all the pleasure fades. Fortunately his lower half has calmed down when a pair of bright blue eyes pop into the tent.

“Good morning, Briseis.”

Achilles’s over exaggerates the word morning and Briseis ignores his comment to stare at Patroclus.

“Patroclus.”

Her voice is solid; sending Patroclus’s merry mood backwards and replacing it with unease.

“Is everything all right, Briseis?”

He asks. Her lips draw into a thin line as she looks to him and then the tent door. Patroclus takes the hint and nods his head. He makes his way over to the tent door only to be stopped by Achilles’s firm hand on his wrist.

“Achilles? What are you-“

His voice is cut off by his racing heart. His body is sure to be the color of the red morning sun as Achilles’s lips slide lazily over his palm in a quick and gentle kiss. He makes sure to send Briseis a look that says _He is mine_ as he releases Patroclus’s hand.

Patroclus’s eyes shift to Briseis in embarrassment and see a look of shock, hurt, and disgust twist on her face in a series of changes. Her face sticks with the look of disgust as she grabs the hand Achilles's just kissed and drags Patroclus out the tent and into her own. She throws her pillow on the ground and forces Patroclus’s upon it as she sits across from him.

All the worries Patroclus had this morning are back with double the force. His stomach aches. He wants to get away and go back to the safe warmth of his sleeping bag and Achilles’s sweet touch. Nervously he twists his hands together and pulls his legs over one another to sit cross-legged. Briseis’s pained faced is causing too many unpleasant thoughts to rush through Patroclus’s brain. What if she hates people like him? Could she be a homophobe? She didn’t seem disturbed at the mall when she found out about Patroclus’s crush on Achilles. What is going on? Why does she look so hurt, disturbed, and angry? The silence is unsettling and Patroclus’s throat makes a noise of surprise when Briseis grab’s one of his hands in hers.

“Patroclus.”

She says once again in a firm voice. Patroclus raises his eyebrows as she takes a deep breath; choosing her words wisely.

“Patroclus, you need to be cautious of Achilles.”

Her words are a small whisper. The chestnut eyes before her shake with uncertainty and confusion.

“What do you mean?”

She sighs, rubbing his hand in hers as she looks into his eyes.

“I mean… maybe it would be best if you stay away from him a bit. You should live somewhere else. I do not think he is safe to be around.”

This ignites a spark of anger in Patroclus’s blood and he recoils his hand from hers, leaving her hand shaking in the empty space between them.

“What are you saying?! You know that Achilles means more to me than just a friend. How can you tell me this?”

He asks, surprised by the amount of force in his tone; but why wouldn’t he be angry? How can Briseis say that the person he feels safest with is dangerous? How can she still be upset with Achilles after seeing how tenderly he was treated by him this morning before he left the tent? Why would she tell him to stay away from the one he loves? Is this because of the incident at the mall? Is she still not over it? He asks her but she only nods her head no.

“I am just trying to warn you, Patroclus.”

She tries to explain and reaches back for Patroclus’s hand but he does not return his hand to her. He glances at her before turning his head away. The look of hurt upon her face is more prominent than earlier and her eyes have filled to the brim with tears. Patroclus finds himself wanting to comfort her, but at the same time he is still upset at her; His heart feels as though it has been torn in two and he is unsure of what he should do.

“Pat…”

Her voice chokes on a sob. Making a decision Patroclus grabs her hand in his. He should hear her out. A good friend would try to talk things out and that is exactly what he is going to do. He needs to know what Briseis’s problem is with Achilles’s and why she looks so small and defeated in this moment. He scoots closer and rubs his hand upon her cheek.

“Briseis,”

He adjusts her face to look straight into her eyes. Briseis keeps blinking her eyes shut as if she is trying to push something away.

“Why should I be careful around Achilles? What is this all about? I need you to tell me. I need you to tell me clearly and I promise that I will listen to you. Even if you upset me, I will make sure to here you out before I decide on what I should do. Just please…”

She blinks open her eyes and he sends her a little smile.

“Trust me and talk to me. I am your friend and I will try my best to hear you out.”

He removes his hand and she smiles back with a sad smirk.

“Alright,”

She coughs, pulling back her hair from her face, rubbing her hands on her eyes, and tries to erase her sad emotions, however her nose stays red and her eyes remain glossy from her fresh tears.

“I…”

Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. Patroclus waits patiently for her to compose herself and try to speak again. Finally she shifts on the floor of the tent and clenches her hands into the cheap plastic flooring. The black plastic gathers in her fists, crinkling, and looking a lot like crumbled paper as she moves her hands from the plastic and into her lap.

“I…”

She holds her hands together tightly as her breathing turns rapid. She sounds like she is about to cry again when she jolts Patroclus with her words like lightening to a tree,

“I have to go back to the hotel.”

Patroclus blinks a few times. His head cocks to the side and he places his hand on her shoulder.

“Why do you need to go back to the hotel? Also, I thought we were going to talk about Achilles? Briseis, I don’t understand.”

A terrified expression spreads onto Briseis’s tanned face like a dark cloud. Her lip sticks out in a trembling pout. The look in her eyes is one Patroclus knows to well.

“Briseis, is someone threatening you to go back?”

She shakes her head yes.

“Is it Achilles?”

She shakes her head no.

“Is someone hurting you?”

He asks; worry spreading throughout his entire body. He hopes she says no. He hopes that she is not going through what he had been through. He desperately wishes that her next answer is not true.

“Yes.”

The solemn word rings out like a thousand alarms; shattering Patroclus’s hope in a spiraling downfall.

Briseis is being abused.

Patroclus never noticed.

He hesitates with his next question. He heart is a tight ball as he hopes that the answer to this question is not another yes.

“Is it Achilles?”

She shakes her head with a no and relief washes over Patroclus like an overflowing fountain. Briseis blinks her eyes shut once again before saying anything more. With a gasp of air she stammers,

“It’s Hector. He is my ex.”

Rage and despair over takes the feeling of relief Patroclus had before. He curses and screams at himself within his mind. How could he be so stupid?! He should have seen the signs! The bruises on Briseis at the mall, the way she said her ex’s name, and the strange demanding voice on the other end of the phone when he asked her to come with him on this trip.

Patroclus wants to say something to Briseis. He wants to tell her that she is not alone. That everything is going to be okay. That he has been through what she is going through. That it is okay to cry. It is okay to run. That he can help her run. He can help her escape. He wants to say so much… but the shadows of his past are wrapped around his tongue and squeezing his throat.

If he helps her…

If he manages to save her…

What will happen to him?

Will her ex injure him, kill him, or hurt Achilles?

Briseis is still sitting across from Patroclus on the floor. Her shoulders are shivering beneath his hand. He wants to place his hand back at his side. To pretend that what she told him was not true. He wants everything to go back to normal. To the way it was when there was her and him; smiling and giggling at each other in the bright artificial lighting of the souvenir store at the mall.

Briseis opens her mouth creating breathless words until her voice finally catches up with her.

“I’m sorry Patroclus…”

She sniffles,

“I… I just think you should stay away from Achilles. I don’t… I don’t want you to end up like me. The way he hit you at the mall-,”

She pauses to get more air,

“The way he hit you reminded me of Hector and… You just need to say away from him! He’s not safe! He looks nice… I even thought he would be nice for you when you told me you liked him but… he has shown his true colors, especially last night.”

Patroclus grips Briseis’s shoulder even firmer with his hand. His own anxiety is a becoming a scrambled mess and he hopes that there is a chance that his grip may comforter her; as if he hand could piece her back together, but he knows that it takes more than a simple gesture like this to fix what is broken, and it will take her a long time to be completely healed. It has taken Patroclus many years to be who he is now and he is still not completely healed.

“ Briseis, Achilles was with me last night. He did nothing wrong. What happened last night?”

Briseis’s eyes sink lower on her face and wisps of her hair fall from behind her ears.

“He…”

She tilts her head,

“I think he hurt you. Do you remember anything from last night?”

Memories of last night’s activities float like a dream in Patroclus’s head. A light blush spreads across his cheeks and he manages to speak without his voice sounding too embarrassed. 

“Yes, I remember everything from last night and it was nothing bad.”

The blush on Patroclus’s cheeks ques Briseis into what happened. Her jaw falls down in astonishment as she fits things together. Patroclus was not hurt. He was just passed out from the things he did with Achilles. 

“You and him… you had…”

Her voice wanders off as Patroclus’s body burns a scarlet red.

“Yes.”

Nervousness and humility spill from Patroclus; he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

This would explain why he was passed out in Achilles arm’s and why Achilles was so persistent on Patroclus sleeping in his tent last night, however this doesn’t explain the text message on Achilles phone, and it still does not make up for what Achilles did to Patroclus at the mall.

“If what you said did happen, that you and him…”

Briseis blushes coughing into her hand. She chooses not to finish her sentence and changes it,

“Even if you two did get together last night. I do not think you will stay together. I think he is cheating on you, Pat. That he is cheating on you or that he is cheating on someone else with you.”

Patroclus crosses his arms in offence.

“Briseis, I know you do not like Achilles but making up lies about him is not going to help you. Achilles has told me before that he is single. His mother actually wanted him to find a woman to stay with him and become his girlfriend or wife. What proof do you have that he is no longer single besides me?”

Briseis sighs,

“His phone.”

Her eyes move off the floor and back to Patroclus’s face.

“Check his phone, Pat. Last night I… I looked at it. He left it on the table and it was ringing. I looked at the front of it and saw a message pop up on its screen. It was from someone named Thetis. This person said I love you to Achilles and gave him money. The money should be on the table at the hotel. Check the table when you get back to the hotel if you don’t believe me.”

Everything feels as though it is slipping through Patroclus’s hands.

“Thetis could be a friend or his mother?”

He suggests causing Briseis to roll her eyes and sigh,

“Do you really think that, Pat? Do not forget that he hit you. If he can hit you then he can easily lie to you. Trust me…”

Her body shudders at the thought of Hector abusing her,

“You do not want to be in a relationship with someone who hurts you. You need to be careful around Achilles, take my advice, and leave him. I… I don’t… Please, I do not wish to see you go through what I go through… Please…I...Please Patroclus, just listen to me and leave him.”

She begs on the verge of tears and Patroclus quickly takes her in his arms with one swift movement. He hugs her close as her head falls onto his shoulder. 

“Briseis…”

He says calmly as quite sobs erupt from her lungs in panicked breaths.

Gently he strokes her head like one would a crying child.

“Achilles will never hurt me. That time at the mall was because he was scared. You must understand how it feels to be scared. I know you must. I was in the same situation as you.”

Patroclus pushes away his shadows as best as he can as he speaks about himself, but his voice still wavers as they attack him with relentless pressure. He tries to stay focused on the conversation before him for Briseis, for Achilles, and for himself. He cannot pay attention to the recalled memories of his past. He cannot let the darkness get the best of him. Briseis turns her head on his shoulder to get a better look at his face. Her eyes are wide and glistening with tears.

“What did you say?”

She asks with a hoarse voice.

“I was abused before.”

Patroclus holds her gaze.

“My father… He abused me because I am different. To some people different is frightening, to others it is disgusting, and to some it is accepting. To my father it was disgusting. He hated me for the whoI am and tried to change me. He tried to turn me straight… He…”

Patroclus’s throat makes a sharp cry as the memories assault him, but he mustn’t let the memories get the best of him, he must continue to push back.

“It does not matter what he did. What he did was terrible. Achilles will never hurt me like that man, Briseis. Achilles will never hurt me! Briseis, you must trust me. Achilles is a good man, probably the best man I know, and I will ask him about Thetis. Do not worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself.”

He hugs Briseis tighter,

“Please, do not worry about me. You need to worry for yourself, Briseis . You need to escape from your ex… from Hector. I will do whatever I can to help you. Please, just tell me what to do!”

Briseis’s pushes her palms into Patroclus’s chest.

“No.”

She shoves at him.

“No, Pat.”

She shoves her hands harder into his chest but he does not move. He will help her. He can help her. He just needs her to tell him what to do.

“Patroclus!”

She shoves as hard as she can and finally moves him away. His hands fall to his side limply and he struggles with his mind. The memories of his past are now a clustered painful headache that bashes around in the space behind his eyes.

“Briseis, I cannot let you return back to that hotel. Not with your ex there. Please, tell me what to do! I can help you run away!”He reaches forward and grabs her hand.

“You are my best friend. I… I don’t want to lose you. Please, let me help you.”

A hysterical laugh fills the tent from Briseis. She looks at Patroclus as if she has already lost her fight and it breaks Patroclus’s heart to see her like this; his happy friend is much more like him than meets the eye. She is broken. She is beaten. She has given up hope like he did so long ago before Achilles.

“You can’t help me, Pat.”

She laughs more,

“No one can… Don’t you understand! He is too strong and cunning! I have called the police about him and he somehow managed to fool them! The police think I want attention or something when I call them. They think I am just some crazy woman! If the police cannot help me then no one can.”

Tears stream down her face as she grabs her stuff in the tent. A horn blares outside the tent.

“That’s Hector…”

She hastily grabs her last bag and throws it over her shoulder.

“He told me on the phone that he was on his way to bring me back to the hotel. He found my note. Please, do not follow me and be careful around Achilles. I will trust him for you, but if he hurts you… I will find a way to hurt him. Goodbye Patroclus.”

She leaves the tent in a blur. It takes a moment for Patroclus to register what just happened. His head is spinning as he runs outside into the blinding sunlight. A shimmer of silver catches his eye. It’s Hector’s car and sitting in the front seat is Briseis; curled into a little wad of black hair and tan skin. She is crying with her hands over her eyes as Hector yells above her. Spit flies from Hector’s mouth as he digs his finger into her arm. Patroclus’s can hardly make out the man’s features before his feet run in a full sprint towards the car.

“Briseis!”

He calls out to her, but she cannot hear him behind the thick glass windows of the car.

“Briseis don’t go! Wait!”

He yells even louder as the car’s engine revs up. The tires spin leaving a cloud of sand and dust in their wake. Patroclus runs as fast as he can until the car disappears from his sight; sinking behind the horizon on the old rock road that led Patroclus here.

Patroclus’s body feels heavy yet also empty as his knees collide with the gritty sand. Everything feels slowly and heavy in his eyes. The clouds above him are weights crashing down, the sand is quick sand, the humid air is suffocating smog, and the waves rolling upon the beach are thick tar filling his ears. His lungs fill as though they are full of hot oil, his throat is on fire with scorching heat, and he gags on his vomit as it spews from his mouth and onto the sand in a mixture of ugly colors.

A sudden hand is placed upon his back creating gentle circle on his skin. The circles upon his back lead him back to the world and away from the painful obscure visions that dance behind his eyelids; fragments of his past and what could be Briseis’s current fate.

“Pat… Patroclus, come back to me… My dear Philtatos… please… Pat-ro-clus…”

Achilles continues to smoothly rub Patroclus’s back until chestnut eyes blink back at him, once again lit with brilliance, however the usual shine in Patroclus’s eyes is a bit dull and faded.

“There you are, Patroclus.”

A kiss is placed upon Patroclus’s brown curls. With ease Achilles’s manages to gradually help Patroclus stand again without shaking. He grabs Patroclus’s cheeks between his soft hands then kisses the tip of his nose before laying his forehead on the creased forehead before him.

“What happened?”

He asks. Patroclus starts to shake like a leaf and Achilles’s kisses his forehead.

“Patroclus, what happened?”

“Briseis…”

Patroclus mumbles and Achilles’s leans into the brunette’s chest; keeping his forehead upon the other’s forehead.

“Is she hurt? Is she angry? Does she hate me more? Did she leave? I heard a car and raced out here to see if everything is alright. What is going on, Pat?”

Patroclus’s hands fly to the sides of his head and he clutches his brown locks. He feels dizzy… so very dizzy and thirsty. His head is pounding worse than ever. His flashbacks are on repeat, stinging like his father’s hand, and he tries so hard to keep his attention on the gold flecks in the beautiful green eyes before him.

Achilles’s wraps his own hands around Patroclus’s hands. Skillfully he edges away Patroclus’s tight hold. Patroclus’s hands become loose and with his hands so comes his mouth,

“I want to go home. Achilles, I want to go home… Please, can we go home? Briseis… She needs our help. We cannot stay here. She needs us. Let’s go home. Let’s go back to the hotel. Let's go back! Come on! We need to go! We need to go home! We need to leave right now! We can’t stay here! We-”

Achilles’s stops Patroclus’s frantic pleas with a sudden kiss on the lips. Desperately Patroclus sinks into the kiss. His mouth moves hot and passionately against Achilles’s own; losing himself in Achilles’s light once again. The shadows of his past are banished with each gasp he draws from Achilles. Running out of air, the kiss slows down, and Patroclus holds onto Achilles’s arms for support as he tries to catch his breath.

“Feel better?”

Achilles chuckles slightly; his smirk can practically be heard in his voice. Patroclus hums then scoots close to his chest. He places his head on Achilles heart to listen to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Much better but...”

He looks up to Achilles,

“We do need to go home. Please, we need to go. We cannot stay here any longer. I have some things I must tell you and Briseis…”

Achilles’s senses the tension spreading throughout Patroclus’s body agian. If he is not careful he could send Patroclus into another panic attack. He lightly brushes his hand upon the small of Patroclus's back. 

“You can tell me about her when we are back at the hotel. We can leave now If that is what you want. Will you be okay to wait here while I pack the tents and supplies away? The car is just down the road if you want to wait there.”

Patroclus nods,

“Yes, just please hurry.”

With a chaste kiss Achilles smiles,

“What kind of warrior would I be if I was not fast?”

His joke causes Patroclus’s frown to change into a grin for few seconds, yet as Achilles’s turns away, Patroclus’s face sags back into a frown.

It is only a matter of time before Briseis probably receives punishment for leaving Hector for this beach trip. He needs to hurry back to her. This is all his fault. He should not have asked her to come with him on this trip. There has to be something he can do to protect her. He can’t stand by and let his friend be hurt like he was. Once everything is explained to Achilles, he is sure that Achilles will help, and with Achilles strength he may be able to save Briseis.

“Just wait for me Briseis…”

His eyes roam the sky and Achilles collapses the tent Briseis was using.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to Florence + the Machine when writing this chapter
> 
> Also, I want to let all of you know that as I make new chapters, I go back every once in a while, and make corrections on previous chapters. I apologize for any typos or mistakes I have made that some of you may have caught.


	15. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few important things are discussed between Patroclus and Achilles. Achilles also has some fun in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little over 1,000 hits!!!! I never thought my fic would have this many hits! Thank you all so much!!!! I am so sorry that this chapter took me awhile to post. I am going to try to update this fic monthly, but this month has been stressing me out. I have been going through a lot of personal issues, however I am hoping that they will all be resolved in the near future or sooner. Also I wanted to let you all know that this story will probably end up being about 20 chapters, however that is a guess and it may change if my brain gets carried away. I have a story board lined up for each chapter of this book, but sometimes my mind wonders when I write, and then the story board changes entirely. Thank you all for your patience and look forward to more chapters!

The journey back to the hotel is very different from the journey to the beach. There is no giddy laughter, no heartwarming smiles, no silly little games of spying different objects out the windows, no glances that send shivers down Patroclus’s spine or small remarks that cause blush to spread on either Patroclus’s or Achilles skin, there’s not even the slightest ounce of peace in Patroclus’s mind. All there is is a looming presence of uncertainty and dread as a few small rocks crunch beneath the jagged surface of rubber tires.

The low hush of a sticky sweet pop tune is playing on the radio for the third time this afternoon. The singer’s prominent whiny voice is a torture in the cramped space of Achilles’s rented car. The lyrics of the song are extremely annoying to Patroclus as well as the nasal tone of the singer. Each verse has Patroclus wanting to cover his ears and roll out of the car. His anxiety is on edge with everything that has happened and the sugar coated words of _happy ever after’s_ and _forgiving those who hurt you_ are not helping Patroclus at all. His hands curl into the bottom of his seat and he grips onto the soft fabric beneath him; the grey material folds under his fingers. He would love to tell Achilles to turn the radio off or at least change the station, however he finds his words lodged in his throat.

Without making an expression Patroclus forcefully squeezes the plush material of his seat even harder as a headache tenses in the space behind his eyelids. The action of holding and squeezing something has always been somewhat relieving to him. He can’t help but sigh when the he thinks the pop song has finally ended, but of course it continues. It finally ends with a shrill high note that has the singer using a synthesizer to obtain. Patroclus has never heard an animal die before; nevertheless he is pretty sure that if Achilles’s was to run into an animal right here right now, that animal would make a sound similar to the end of that pop song he miserably listened to.

The radio switches to an old 2000’s hit and Patroclus feels his agitation slightly deflate. He releases the seat and looks over to Achilles hoping that the man will speak to him, yet Achilles does not look at Patroclus; instead he keeps his eyes focused on the road before him. Achilles’s forehead is furrowed down in an expression Patroclus has not seen before on the man’s face and he chews on his bottom lip. It almost looks as if Achilles is scared. What could frighten such a man as Achilles? Perhaps he is angry? Maybe confused?

Patroclus leans further back into his seat. For once in his life Patroclus feels uncomfortable next to Achilles. The man next to him right now is not the same man that rescued him from the streets or the man who made love to him on the beach. His once godlike stature has deplenished into a mere mortal appearance with fear behind his cracked visage. Is he afraid of what Patroclus needs to tell him? Is he afraid of the conversation that is to come? Is he afraid of their relationship? Did he lie when he told Patroclus that he was okay with what they did on the beach? Is he regretting it?

Patroclus’s shoulders begin to tremble once again as tears pool in his eyes. An aching in his chest has him turning his face towards the window beside him. It truly is amazing and horrific how the world can change in just a few hours. One moment the world is cool, peaceful, and packed with joy and hope; then suddenly the world is spun around and it becomes hot, stuffy, and once again embedded with the faults of restless uncertainty. Patroclus’s new world was snatched away from him before he could even begin to fully enjoy it.

Achilles’s makes an odd growl from his throat like he wants to speak. Patroclus waits for him to say something; however Achilles just passes the growl off by clearing his throat, and feigns a dry cough. With a queasy breath Patroclus holds his hand to his stomach. His nerves are running in overtime; sending his mind racing with unpleasant thoughts. He should ask Achilles about Thetis. He should tell Achilles about Briseis. He should ask Achilles about their relationship, about the beach, about bunches of things yet… He finds himself feeling sick, dizzy, quiet, and curled in on himself. He shifts his vision to the car window beside him trying to distract his thoughts by watching the blurring brush that slides by as Achilles drives the car. Within his mind Patroclus names each flash of color he sees; desperately trying to soothe the bundle of nerves swelling in his chest.

Violet.

Orange.

White.

Yellow.

Blue.

Green.

Green.

_Green..._

_Emerald green..._

_Gold…_

Patroclus sucks in a sharp gasp, staring back at the green eyes reflecting off the glass window.

________ _ _ _ _

“Patroclus…”

________ _ _ _ _

Achilles drags the brunette’s name on the top of his tongue like sticky peanut butter; clumping to the roof of his mouth with compassion and choking his words with caution. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly and he shifts in his seat; keeping his foot close to the gas and brake as he turns on cruise control. The green eyes strain to keep looking at the emotionally drained man slumped in the passenger seat and also on the rough road before him. 

________ _ _ _ _

“What happened on the beach, Pat? I know that I said you could tell me at the hotel, but I am curious and… I am worried. Are you okay? Should I pull over? You look like you are going to throw up. You are frightening me Patroclus. I have no idea what is happening between you and Briseis, and to see you so distraught is making me feel… well it is making me feel a lot of things. I feel angry, but at the same time I also feel scared, confused, and hurt. This is all a little overwhelming. I want to pull this car over to the side of the road, but at the same time I want to keep going. The sooner we get to the hotel, the quicker you will speak to me, and I will feel at ease. Unless you want to talk to me before the hotel… There is a rest stop up ahead. I could pull over and we could talk. Would you like to talk to me about all of this before we reach the hotel? It would make me feel much better.”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus turns his head from the window, noticing the car shift on the road, and he pushes his hand lightly on the wheel to keep Achilles on the road.

________ _ _ _ _

“I am fine, Achilles. We just need to get to the hotel. Quickly.”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus is anything but fine. He lies to Achilles so he can reach Briseis faster. Achilles is slowing down the speed of the car and Patroclus grows restless with each second that is wasted driving. His stomach hurts and his mind is thrashing about with terrible thoughts of his past, thoughts of what Briseis must be enduring right now, and thoughts of his relationship with Achilles. Jealousy is penetrating through his flesh and shooting through his veins with anger, sadness, and confusion. Maybe he should just ask Achilles who Thetis is?

________ _ _ _ _

A loud screech of the tires has Patroclus’s lost for words and clenching his seat belt in a death grip. The car stops in a horribly fast pace that sends Patroclus’s body sagging forward. Lost in a haze of memories, Patroclus unsnaps his seat belt, and lunges at Achilles. He harshly shoves into Achilles’s side.

________ _ _ _ _

“What are you doing!”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus snaps at him, but quickly regrets the way his voice raised and his harsh push as he looks to Achilles. The strong man he has always adorned looks weak. His head is upon the steering wheel, hands folded below his chin, and glassy eyes gazing at Patroclus with a sorrowful expression.

________ _ _ _ _

“Achilles?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus lightly touches Achilles’s cheek,

________ _ _ _ _

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to yell at you just now… I’m… I’m a little unstable. My nerves are going crazy and I am finding it hard to control the thoughts running in my head. Are you alright? Why have we stopped? We need to go. We should hurry to Briseis.”

________ _ _ _ _

At the mention of Briseis’s name, Achilles rolls his eyes, and he swats away Patroclus’s hand. The brunette is stunned by his action. Patroclus once again feels furry rising in his body.

________ _ _ _ _

“What is your problem, Achilles!?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus shouts; hating the way his voice echoes in the car. He does not want to be mad at Achilles. He does not want to fight with Achilles. He just wants everything to go back to the way it was. Why can’t everything be normal again?! Why can’t Briseis be safe and Achilles trustworthy? Why does he feel such torment between his heart and brain? His heart is happy, but also crumbling away. His mind is whole, yet infested with the poison of betrayal, hurt, and jealousy. He is not even sure who Thetis is… He should not be feeling what he is feeling right now… should he? He should be feeling worry for Briseis. He should be feeling rage at Briseis’s abuser. He shouldn’t be feeling jealousy or anger at Achilles.

________ _ _ _ _

Achilles finally speaks,

________ _ _ _ _

“You love her, Patroclus. Do you not?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus is lost for words. Achilles’s voice did not falter. What he just said was with certainty and his eyes sharpen as he stares at Patroclus. Patroclus’s body stiffens and his eyes widen,

________ _ _ _ _

“What? Achilles, what are you saying?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus says softly. Achilles sighs; rubbing his eyes into his arm upon the steering wheel. A tear rolls down his cheek and Patroclus wants nothing more than to dry that tear, but his hand hesitates and hovers over Achilles’s skin. He has never seen this man break down before. Achilles’s has always been a pillar of strength. Who would have thought that it would take Patroclus for Achilles to crumble?

________ _ _ _ _

“You do. You love Briseis. Am I right, Patroclus? Tell me if I am correct. Tell me if it is true. You love her, do you not?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus is unsure what to say. This whole time he has been feeling jealousy and worry… he did not know that Achilles was feeling the same. He reaches his hand out once again, settling it on the curve of Achilles’s jaw, and asks,

________ _ _ _ _

“Is that what you think?”

________ _ _ _ _

Achilles’s does not refuse Patroclus’s hand; he pushes his cheek into the rough hand seeking comfort as his shoulders dip down with a heavy sigh. This subject seems to have been on Achilles mind for quite a while. Patroclus moves his hand to Achilles’s chin and lifts Achilles’s face from the wheel. His eyes meet Patroclus’s eyes and the brunette nudges his forehead into Achilles’s forehead. The position causes Patroclus’s muscles to become sore in the car, with the stick shift digging into Patroclus’s thigh, but he bears with the discomfort; wanting to sort everything out just as bad as Achilles.

________ _ _ _ _

“I don’t love her in the way you think I do.”

________ _ _ _ _

He answers and Achilles’s eyes suddenly brighten at the words.

________ _ _ _ _

“Then…What is she to you, Patroclus?”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus briefly smiles and kisses Achilles’s brow.

________ _ _ _ _

“Do you really have to ask that, Achilles? She is just a good friend. If you are upset because you think I love her more than you then…”

________ _ _ _ _

Blush creeps along Patroclus’s cheeks,

________ _ _ _ _

“Then you are wrong. Achilles I…”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus feels Achilles’s hands on his shoulders and he shudders at his touch. He continues to speak,

________ _ _ _ _

“I love you, Achilles. I would not have done what we did on the beach if I did not love you, but…”

________ _ _ _ _

Achilles’s breath hitches,

________ _ _ _ _

“You love me but what, Patroclus?”

________ _ _ _ _

The apprehension in Achilles’s tone is definite and causes Patroclus to have a hard time bringing out what he wants to say. This conversation is hurting Patroclus just as much as it is hurting Achilles. He grabs Achilles’s hands off his shoulders to hold in his; they are clammy and trembling much like his own.

________ _ _ _ _

“I am breaking you Achilles. I have never seen you shed a tear until now. I knew that you would not be able to handle me and yourself. I’m just a shadow blocking out your glory. You…”

________ _ _ _ _

Patroclus’s body is falling apart and his voice cracks as he continue to talk,

________ _ _ _ _

“You should not be with me. You deserve someone better than me. After all, do you even love me the same as I love you, Achilles? Who is Thetis? Briseis… She saw the name pop up on your phone the other night. I… I do not like to pry but… Briseis told me that this Thetis person loves you. I’m sure they are much better for you than I. I do not deserve you and you do not deserve scum like me. I told you before what I am telling you now. I am a leech. I am a stain on your life. You don’t need someone like me. You are talented, attractive, strong, brave, kind, and the most incredible person I have ever met! I love you so much; however I cannot supply you with all that I think you should have. I’m sure this Thetis person could probably do better than I. Do you love Thetis, Achilles?”

________ _ _ _ _

Suddenly Achilles is jeering away from Patroclus. When Achilles’s hand unwinds from Patroclus’s hand, Patroclus feels as though the world has been swept away. Achilles’s face has warped into a crooked smile and rumbling laughter pours from his throat like a thunderstorm. His laughter increases and Patroclus’s heart breaks in half. With each chuckle that fills the air Patroclus is sent spiraling deeper into the darkness that has at last consumed him.

________ _ _ _ _

He’s laughing at me. 

________ _ _ _ _

He is laughing at his mistake of being with me. 

________ _ _ _ _

He loves Thetis. 

________ _ _ _ _

He realized that I am just a joke. 

________ _ _ _ _

I was always a joke. 

________ _ _ _ _

Of course we were never meant to be. 

________ _ _ _ _

We are both guys. 

________ _ _ _ _

I was a fool to ever think that my father was wrong. 

________ _ _ _ _

He has always been right. 

_______I am a fool. ____ _ _ _ _ _

Each of Patroclus's thoughts are bullets to Patroclus's mind and heart . Without thinking Patroclus bursts out of the car and runs down the side of the road. Achilles shouts after him but his words are only caught on deaf ears. Patroclus can hear nothing but his flaws and the drum of his heartbeat in his ears. He’s running yet again, like the coward he knows he is, and the thought of his weakness causes his eyes to blur. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus is not sure how long he has been running as his pace slows down. His legs feel like lead and he heavily pants as he lets his hands fall onto his knees. He can’t stop now he has to get to Briseis. Painfully he steps forward but is caught off guard as a sudden weight sends him toppling over onto the dirt covered roadside. His lungs gasp for air and he lets out a wheeze on the impact of concrete tearing his skin. His eyes come back to focus and his vision clears only to be blinded by a bright green light. Suddenly familiar warmth is on his lips, his face, and his neck. His brain catches up with the sensations that tickle his body and he shoves Achilles’s off of him. Achilles is smiling with his stupid big grin and Patroclus can only glare as Achilles laughs once more. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“What’s so funny?” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus grumbles, wiping at his mouth, and Achilles only laughs harder, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Pat! Patroclus you stupid, handsome, wonderful, perfect…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles laughter grows as he speaks and he shakes his head trying to get ahold of himself. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Thetis is my mother!” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus’s jaw drops. The shock on his face has Achilles reeling with more laughter. Too tired to care Patroclus falls back onto the patch of hot cement below him. Once again his body and mind over reacted. He should have stayed and listened to Achilles. He should not have run from Achilles. Now his legs hurt, his body is sore, his mind is drained, and he has to walk all the way back to the car without the energy to do so. All the time it is going to take for him to walk back to the car is just going to lead to less time of getting to Briseis. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus groans with aggravation at the thought of walking back to the car in the summer heat as something heavy falls upon his legs. He looks up to see Achilles’s leaning over him with a mischievous smirk stretched upon his lips. His smooth hands are upon Patroclus’s knees as he straddles Patroclus’s hips and Patroclus’s face flashes with scarlet. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Achilles?!” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles scoots forward, so that his face is mere inches away from Patroclus’s embarrassed face. Achilles butt is too close to something that Patroclus is having a hard time calming down, causing Patroclus to squirm below the blonde. With much force Patroclus tries his best to ignore the tightness that is growing in his pants.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I love you Patroclus, but you should really stop running away from me whenever you are upset.”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles whispers and his low voice sends heat into Patroclus’s groin. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I already had to chase you down at the beach and now here… Pat, you make me very upset when you run. Sure, I get angry when you run, but mostly I just get sad.” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles’s face draws closer, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Very…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

He kisses Patroclus forehead, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Incredibly…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

He kisses Patroclus’s cheek and Patroclus blinks lazily as Achilles’s fingers glide up his neck, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Sad.” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles’s lips capture Patroclus’s lips with a deep kiss that sucks away any air left in Patroclus’s chest. A moan escapes Patroclus’s mouth and Achilles’s licks Patroclus’s bottom lip before backing up with the same mischievous grin he was supporting before. Patroclus reaches out to Achilles for another kiss, lost in lust, but Achilles only chortles with shinning eyes and climbs off of Patroclus. He stands, brushes off his pants, and offers out a hand to Patroclus. Patroclus gladly takes Achilles’s hand and pulls himself up, but something does not feel right… He looks down to realize that he and Achilles are not the only things standing up. A car passes by and Patroclus quickly pulls his shirt down causing Achilles’s to spill out even more laughter. Patroclus sends him a scowl with bright pink cheeks. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey, don’t give me that look Patroclus!” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles innocently places his hands out in front of him then shrugs, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You almost broke up with me. I had to show you that what we have is worth keeping. Also you made me a little mad. Everyone deserves some sweet revenge now and then, right?”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus raises his hands to give Achilles a slap, but the flash of blue out of the corner of his eyes has him pulling his shirt down once more over his pants.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Achilles, you jerk!”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

He shouts humiliated as a blue car shoots by and Achilles wraps his arm around Patroclus’s shoulders. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“It’s fine, Patroclus! Don’t worry! The cars are going so fast that they cannot even see you. Anyways, why would they be looking at your pants? Let alone your... well... Look, I am sorry. I drove the car here so we would not have to walk very far to get back to it. I’ll hide you from the cars. Come on…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles moves forward. Patroclus leans into Achilles side as they begin their walk back. He refuses to let go of his shirt and is startled by a sudden peck that is placed on his temple. He shifts his head to see Achilles gleeful face. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You know…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles eyebrow raises, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“The cars that passed us earlier are pretty lucky... They saw a good view of our kiss back there! I wonder if anyone may try to steal you away from me now that they know you are a good kisser?”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus pushes Achilles away with laughter, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Achilles!” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

He tries to sound serious, but it is hard to do when Achilles’s entrancing green eyes are locked onto his. Achilles’s grabs Patroclus’s hand in his and gives it a firm squeeze. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“It is nothing to be ashamed of Patroclus. After all, I have never had something taken away from me before and I would never let someone take you from me. Also it is not every day that someone sees a warrior kiss another warrior of equal standing.”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Achilles…”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus shakes his head, 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I am not a warrior. I am nothing like you. You know this. I have told you this.” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Achilles ignores Patroclus comment and nudges closer to the brunette; his smile never falters.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You are so much more than you think you are Patroclus. Please, never forget that. Promise me that we will always be together like this. Just the two of us warriors against the world. A warrior of bronze and a warrior of wit. A warrior who knows too little about the world and a warrior that knows too much about the world. Promise me, Patroclus.” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

He brings Patroclus’s hand to his lips and gently kisses his knuckles. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Promise me it will always be this.” 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus nods at Achilles and from this moment on he swears that he will always have this, for as long as he and Achilles are alive, and even after they are gone there will always be _THIS_. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listened to some good 70's and 60's music when writing this and a bit of some pop hits from the 2000's. 
> 
> P.S- Don't forget that my tumblr account for this fic is called love-war-and-figs. I also have another account called geekasaur1380, but I do not post much about this fic on that account.


	16. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patroclus and Achilles finally make it to the hotel and Patroclus wants nothing more than to run to Briseis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long to update. I have been busy lately and I have also had some bad health. I had a kidney stone and for a while I had a cold. I will be honest... I had some writers block as well... Anyways, I'll try to get new chapters out as soon as I can. Thank you all for waiting patiently and enjoy this incredibly cheesy drama filled chapter of A Place To Call Home. :) You are all wonderful!

Achilles drives into the hotel parking garage hours later than either he or Patroclus were expecting to arrive. The traffic in the city was frustratingly slow. If not for Achilles holding onto Patroclus’s hand in the car Patroclus would have skipped the traffic by jumping out of the car; much like how he left the car previously today.

In a hurry, Patroclus unbuckles himself from his seat. Everything feels to time consuming right now. Even the smallest task of opening the car door has Patroclus on edge. He needs to get to Briseis. He has wasted too much time already and she could be hurt or worse.

Emerging from the sun warmed car and into the dimly lit parking lot is like a blast of artic wind upon Patroclus’s skin. He shivers in the cold air that is reflecting off of the graffiti coated concrete walls and rubs his hands upon his prickling arms. He knows that the goosebumps upon his skin are from far more than just the cold air; yet he continues to rub his arms, hoping for some comfort from his troubling thoughts. The loud “smack” of the car’s trunk closing has Patroclus jolting up with a shrug of his shoulders. Achilles catches a glimpse of his startled action and rushes to Patroclus's side once everything has been unloaded from the rental car.

“Patroclus, are you going to be alright? You look like you have seen a ghost. You’re so pale…”

Achilles reaches out his hand to touch Patroclus’s face, but his hand is swatted away with a sigh,

“I’m fine. It’s just a little cold in here. Let's go. We need to get to Briseis.”

Patroclus turns to walk away, but is stopped as his wrist is firmly captured. He finds the grip on his wrist sliding into the palm of his hand and a hand much warmer than his own firmly squeezes his; dissolving the space between his fingers. 

Patroclus looks down to see Achilles’s hand gripping his own; rubbing small circles upon Patroclus’s skin with his thumb. Patroclus can feel the muscles in his hand relax from the tension of Achilles's movements and hold; even though Achilles's hold is a little too tight to be completely comfortable. 

The light circles come to a halt as quickly as they began and Patroclus looks to the worried green eyes before him with a silent plea. He knows Achilles is concerned for him but they need to leave. There is no time to talk right now. Briseis needs help.

“Pat,”

Achilles takes a step forward and Patroclus tries to pull away,

“You have told me nothing about Briseis. You told me that you would tell me. What is going on? Tell me what happened on the beach! Tell me what is happening. Patroclus, please… I need to know.”

Achilles's words come out in short demands and he shifts a red duffel bag containing clothes upon his shoulder. Patroclus tries to wedge his hand free during the action, however Achilles refuses to let go.

“Achilles…”

Patroclus’s voice echoes off of the walls of the empty garage.

“How about we talk as we walk? I… We need to get to Briseis. I can explain the situation on the way to her room. Does that sound alright to you?”

A heavy sigh escapes Achilles’s lips,

“I figured you would tell me something like this. Can we at least take the camping gear back to my hotel room? That is... before we barge into Briseis’s room for who knows what or why? Some of this stuff is rented and I do not think it would be a wise idea to just leave it out here where it can be stolen. Also,”

Achilles lightly chuckles,

“I don’t think a bag of dirty laundry and a sandy tent will help Briseis. Do you, Pat?”

Patroclus rolls his eyes. He wants nothing more than to tell Achilles to leave the stupid bags where he stands and to follow him to Briseis. Things get stolen in the city all the time. Achilles should be more worried about Briseis instead of some smelly laundry and a wornout tent. As if Achilles can sense Patroclus’s impatience he releases Patroclus's hand, opens up the dirty laundry bag, leans over it, and pretends to inspect the clothes.

“You know…”

Achilles grins smugly into the bag,

“If I recall correctly… some of this laundry became dirty on the beach. I know our swimsuits became dirty from that night we spent together. I dare to say that I will never forget that night. You were so beautiful. You are still beautiful. I will always love the way your hair always sticks up in one spot. Even on the sand your hair still stood up and your eyes… They are so big… like the moon. Looking into your eyes makes me feel lost. As if I am within a map that has no compass. Did you know that whenever we kiss your cheeks turn red Patroclus and you-”

Before Achilles can finish the embarrassing stuff he is saying, Patroclus sprints towards the stairway that leads out of the parking garage with hot pink ears.

“Hey wait for me, Patroclus! Pat!”

Achilles chases after him for the second time today and he wonders if he has made Patroclus mad again. Fortunately, a string of laughter fills Achilles’s ears as he gains an even pace behind the brunette.

“Patroclus slow down!”

Achilles’s laughs after him and Patroclus smirks as he hears the jingling of luggage behind him.

“I will not! Especially not after all that cheesy nonsense you just spat out!”

Patroclus turns his face just enough to see a smudge of blonde over his shoulder. A happy hum escapes his lips as Achilles’s face flashes into view; cheeks burning with blush.

“Achilles, what is taking you so long to catch up with me?! I can see you behind me. You are only a few paces away. You told me that warriors are fast! Some warrior you are!”

Patroclus teases while the sound of Achilles’s feet pounding on the floor shifts further away.

“I am fast! I would be faster if someone had grabbed their bags in the car! I wonder who could have left their bags in the car? Certainly not the guy I love! He would never do such a thing to me!"

The sarcasm in Achilles’s voice has Patroclus gasping for air as he laughs harder and his body collapses upon Achilles’s hotel room door. Achilles is running slow on purpose. Patroclus knows by now that Achilles is definitely fast enough to catch up with him even if he is carrying luggage. Just for spite Patroclus’s pulls out the keys to Achilles’s hotel room from his pocket and swishes them around loudly in the air.

“Hey Achilles, I just beat the swiftest warrior I know to his own hotel room!”

Achilles hops up the stairs just as Patroclus opens the last lock on Achilles’s door. The hinges squeak and the door opens. His foot is about to step over the doorframe when his body is spun around in the blink of an eye and he is slammed onto a wall inside the hotel room. His lips are suddenly crushed by the blonde's lips and he pulls down on Achilles neck to bring him closer. They part for a gasp of air and Patroclus looks at Achilles who stares back at him with an excited grin and overblown pupils.

“I believe this is a tie, Patroclus!”

Achilles’s huffs with a silly grin. He nudges his face closer to Patroclus’s face; close enough to see the light dusting of freckles along the bridge of Patroclus’s nose. 

“By the way… what did I say earlier about running, Patroclus? I’m tired of chasing you! I have literally chased you from the first day we met! What do you say… want to call this a tie?”

Achilles purrs into Patroclus’s ear and he kicks the luggage he had dropped on the floor, so that he can shut the door. 

“If this is a tie Achilles… If I call this a tie… why do I feel like a winner?”

Patroclus asks; smiling into Achilles’s next kiss. His arms wrap around Achilles’s neck and he lets out a weak moan as Achilles’s skillful tongue slides along the edge of his lips and greets the corner of his inner cheek.

“In a tie there are always two winners and winners always earn a prize, therefore the winners should enjoy their prize together, correct?”

Achilles asks and he nips at Patroclus’s bottom lip; pulling the delicate skin between his teeth and drawing a pleased squeak of pain and pleasure from Patroclus’s throat. Patroclus wants to continue speaking to Achilles, but he is lost for words as Achilles’s hips tauntingly grind into his thigh.

“After what we said on the highway…”

Achilles pants into Patroclus’s neck and plants a wet kiss on the tender skin as he slowly thrust upwards,

“I could not stop thinking… about this… How our bodies fit so perfectly together... how… how your hand fits in mine… I…”

Achilles moans and Patroclus’s writhes against the wall, turning his body so that Achilles’s groin is no longer on his thigh as he tries to gain even more friction,

“I could not… I could not help but recall that night… that night we had together in the sand… and…”

Achilles’s voice is becoming weak from his want and Patroclus’s heart can hardly handle the way Achilles’s lips quiver hot puffs of breath across his skin as he speaks. Without much control Patroclus finds his eyes closing as pleasure consumes his body and Achilles lavishes Patroclus in soft kisses.

“Patroclus please… please I… I need you.” 

Soft golden hands lightly graze under Patroclus’s waistband; the thick stuffy fabric of Patroclus’s pants becomes a nuisance with the roaring heat that is now searing in his abdomen.

“I need you… more… more than Briseis may need you right now… she… she can wait for your help… Please just stay… stay with me… I know what I am saying sounds terrible but I… I… Patroclus…”

He passionately kisses Patroclus chest, suckling Patroclus’s sensitive skin through his shirt, however Patroclus’s grows still. Even though Patroclus has wanted this from Achilles since the night on the beach, he can’t help but freeze once he recalls why he is back at the hotel. He can hardly believe that in mere seconds he had forgotten about Briseis due to his own lustful craving for Achilles.

Achilles feels Patroclus’s sudden change and his green eyes dart away from Patroclus’s chest to look into the chestnut eyes before him. Achilles lifts his hands onto Patroclus’s cheeks only to feel moisture upon his skin that was clearly not caused from brief kisses. The look Patroclus is giving him is an unhappy one. Without any words Achilles’s backs away from Patroclus’s body and sighs,

“ I am sorry, Patroclus. I have made a mistake. It seems that I have upset you again today. I let my heart overcome my mind and I was acting foolishly. I was caught up in the moment. I hope that you can forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I…”

Patroclus’s nods as a lightheaded feeling passes over him and Achilles's voice drifts into silence.

“It’s alright, Achilles.”

Feeling a little awkward in this situation Patroclus shyly looks at the floor.

” There is no need to apologize to me. I know that you did not mean to upset me. I… I would love to continue this but… Not right now.”

Achilles is surprised when Patroclus’s hand is suddenly grabbing hold of his shirt collar and pulling him into swift kiss.

“We need to talk Achilles. Please... just sit down at the table.”

Achilles obeys Patroclus request and takes a seat; he tries his best to ignore the throbbing pressure in his pants that has still not faded away. Perhaps this is karma getting back at him for what he did to Patroclus on the highway?

With full attention Achilles listens to what Patroclus has to say. He speaks of a man named Hector who turns out to be Briseis exboyfriend, about Briseis’s strange bruises and her dislike towards strong looking men, and many other things, but what shocks Achilles the most is when Patroclus finally tells him the main problem Briseis is in right now. She is being abused. The tough girl Achilles had battled upon the beach with an unbreakable spirit is not as unbreakable as she seems.

“…You see Achilles,”

Patroclus continues as Achilles quietly processes all that he has been told,

“Briseis needs my help, but I fear that I alone may not be strong enough to help her. Would you rescue her with me, Achilles? I wish I could save her on my own but… My past might stop me from fighting Hector if I face him head on. I could have flashbacks of old memories. Also… I am a terrible fighter. Achilles, I know you are fighter. You were kicked out of college for your fights. Will you do this for me, Achilles? Will you help me save Briseis?”

Achilles stares at the table as if lost in a trance.

“Achilles?”

Achilles’s eyes snap up and Patroclus tries desperately to read the expression on Achilles face.

“Pat…”

Achilles sounds confused and Patroclus grabs onto the edge of the table for support as his anxiety once again gets the best of him. 

“I… Briseis…”

Patroclus leans forward in his seat, 

“You will help her, right?” 

He asks hopefully, only to be smacked down by Achilles next words, 

“I think that… well… Maybe we should call the police?” 

Patroclus’s heart sinks in his chest. 

“The police?” 

Achilles places his arms upon the table, 

“Yes, I think…”

Patroclus pushes his chair back with more force than necessary; crossing the distance to Achilles in mere seconds. 

“You think what?!” 

He yells, 

“Do you think that the police will actually help Briseis!? You think they can save her?! I told you what they did to me! Do you think they will actually help her?” 

Angry tears have formed in Patroclus’s eyes but he refuses to let them fall in front of Achilles.

“Please…”

Achilles begs, taking a step towards Patroclus. 

“Please, listen to me Patroclus. I…”

Patroclus swings his fists blindly in the air as Achilles crumbles away what little space Patroclus has made between them. 

“Pat-ro-clus,” 

Achilles’s arms snake around Patroclus’s body and immediately his body sags limply on Achilles’s chest. 

“The only reason I say this is because I do not want you to be hurt again. I know that I told you before that I would not mind being a boxer, but that is because boxers have controlled fights. The fights in a boxing ring are professional and have rules. You want me to fight a man with no rules. A man who has done nothing to me. I know what Hector has done to Briseis is wrong, but I cannot fix what he has done. I could fight Hector today, but if I fight him then I could also end up losing my home. I know this hotel room is not a true home, however it is all I have. If my mother was to find out that I fought someone in her own hotel she would either kick me out or disown me.”

With careful fingers Achilles tenderly rubs his hand on Patroclus back. Patroclus leans closer into Achilles’s chest with each soothing touch of his fingertips. 

“Uncontrolled fights like the one you are asking me to do are messy. One of us could get seriously hurt from fighting Hector and I do not want that person to be you. I just want you to be safe and that means I need to be safe as well, so that I can protect you.” 

Achilles moves his head so that his forehead is upon Patroclus’s brow. 

“If anything ever happens to you Patroclus… I do not know what I would do with myself. I only want you to be happy and have the life that you never had before you met me.” 

Patroclus hugs Achilles’s firmly,

“I know, Achilles.” 

He replies and slightly pushes himself away from Achilles chest to grab Achilles’s shoulders, 

“Achilles, I love you. I love how much you protect me and how you support me, but I also love Briseis. She is my friend and you have to understand that even though my love for you is stronger, I still love her! I want to protect her just as you protect me so… Please, Achilles help me save her! The police will do nothing to save her. If anything they will just charge into her room with guns blaring and kill both her and Hector! You are my hero, Achilles. You are the greatest warrior I know and with you at my side I know that saving her is possible! Please Achilles! Please! Please save her with me!” 

He begs and grabs onto Achilles’s shirt for support as his legs quake below him. His mind is trying to shut down and his body feels heavy from all the energy he used earlier today. Ever since he woke up this morning Patroclus was thrown into a chaotic storm of anxiety and emotional turmoil. His body just wants to rest. 

“Will you help me, Achilles? Will you help Briseis?” 

Patroclus asks once more, but is met with a look in Achilles eyes that he can read all too well as Achilles shakes his head. 

“Pat, I think you should get some sleep. You look ill. I have never seen you look the way you do now and it honestly frightens me. We can discuss this more tomorrow and decide what to do then. Briseis has not called my cellphone so she may be fine. I’ll let the staff know to check up on her tonight. Come on…”

Achilles tries to lead Patroclus towards the bedroom; however Patroclus digs his heels into the floor and refuses to budge.

“No... No, Achilles we need to go. This is no time for rest. Briseis needs us! You don’t know what she is going through right now! I do! I know exactly what she is going through right now and she needs help! She could be dead right now! I need to get to her!” 

Patroclus lunges himself away from Achilles and violently throws himself at the hotel door. His hands are shaking as he tries to turn the door knob that keeps slipping out of his grasp. He can hardly make out the shape of the knob that dances before him as his eyes swell with tears and his breathing increases into the heavy struggling pants of a full blown panic attack. Suddenly his hands fall away from the knob and he scratches at his neck. His throat feels too tight. This room feels too small. Why is there a figure of a man in front of him? Where is he? What was he just doing right now? What is going on?!

“Patroclus! Patroclus breath! I’m right here! Pat-ro-clus!” 

The man is shouting above Patroclus; but to Patroclus his words only sound muffled and distant. Hands grab Patroclus’s own hands, and for a moment Patroclus feels relief, until the hands that had grabbed his own touch his throat. The sudden image of his father bursts into Patroclus’s vision and he lashes out at the figure before him. With luck, Patroclus manages to hit a solid punch onto his attackers head. Patroclus’s knuckles feel the back fire of his blow as the figure of his father falls upon the floor. It is not until Patroclus’s breathing calms down and his vision clears that he realizes the man in front of him was not his father but instead Achilles. 

“Achilles… What… What have I done?” 

Patroclus’s shaking hand touches Achilles’s face causing Achilles to groan. 

“I’m sorry Achilles. This… I… I hurt you. You just told me that you want to protect me but… look what just happened. How could you ever protect me from myself? I did not mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. You must know that. I am sorry… Achilles,” 

Patroclus rubs his hand upon Achilles’s cheek; watching Achilles’s pupils grow wide then small as they try to focus. Patroclus must have hit him with more force then he thought. A red mark is already formed upon the side of Achilles head; soon that mark will turn into an ugly bruise. 

“I…. I need to go. I need to leave, Achilles…” 

Patroclus’s voice is hardly a whisper. 

“Patroclus…”

Achilles groans and sticks out his hand as if to stop Patroclus, however Patroclus has already made up his mind. He has to go. He has to leave so Briseis will not end up like him and hurt someone she loves. Patroclus brushes his lips upon Achilles’s temple; a silent goodbye to the man he loves. Of course he will return to Achilles. Patroclus promised Achilles he would always be his side. He promised him this… He promised him and he will not go back on his word. If he was to lose this… The man he loves, his life with Achilles, the laughter, the memories, the sun soaked kisses, and the pleasant warmth of Achilles smile…. If Patroclus was to lose any of THIS he would surely perish. No matter what, Patroclus will always keep whatever promise he makes with Achilles. This man means more to him than anything he has ever dreamed for and he has dreamed for a lot. 

“Please Achilles… do not follow me. I don’t want you to get hurt again. I know that you are tough but you are also human. I was an idiot to think of you as some indestructible warrior. I will not make you fight. You do not have to fight Hector. I’ll do it. I will fight him! Just please… be safe. I love you Achilles. I will be right back and then I will make this up to you. I promise you, Achilles.” 

With wobbly knees, Patroclus forces himself to stand up, and he looks down upon Achilles for one last time before turning around to take hold of the door knob that now appears solid. With no second thoughts Patroclus wipes away his tears and steps out of the hotel room. The door shuts behind him with a solemn click. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Achilles was a bit of a horny horn dog in this chapter hehehehe.... 
> 
> P.S- I mentioned before that I would like to make this fic at least 20 chapters long so be prepared for some super drama soon and then some peaceful slow down time. I hope you are all enjoying this fanfiction and feel free to leave comments on here or on my message box on tumblr. Also check out the 8tracks app for some awesome Patrochilles music playlists to listen to. I listened to a few when writing this chapter.


	17. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patroclus struggles with his past some more and he finally confronts Hector.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been way too long since I updated this fic and I apologize yet again for my lateness. I wanted to post three new chapters by now, however with college back in session I have not had the time to go through and edit/revise my chapters. I am trying to make the new chapters as edited and revised as possible, but there might be a few errors I miss. When I finish this fic I will go back and correct any errors from start to finish. Thank you all for your patience and I am so glad to have your support!
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> *Violence  
> *Blood  
> *Abuse/trauma flashbacks

The door in front of Patroclus is a bleak portal into his own past. He knows what lies in front of him; harsh fighting, cruel insults, and haunting scars that are both physical and mental. Nothing about this confrontation with Hector is going to be pleasant and he can’t help but wince as sounds leak out from behind the door, muffled voices, crashes of objects being thrown or kicked, and an odd scuffling noise of metal grinding upon metal. He shudders at the terrible sounds as they tickle his ears with pesky, sickening, sensations that make his eardrums itch, and he finds himself wishing for the quiet clarity of Briseis’s reassuring voice. Hopefully Hector has not harmed her. Hopefully she is safe.

Thinking about Briseis’s voice; broken, small, and no longer full of wit causes a tightening pain in Patroclus’s chest, which only fuels his fear and his anger towards Hector. Once again his pulse is racing too quickly and his head hurts like never before, but he knows that he must stay strong. He needs to remain calm. He cannot risk another panic attack. Not again. Not now. Right now he just needs to focus on one thing; Hector. He must stop Hector from laying another hand on Briseis no matter what the cost.

With a hard turn of the door knob Patroclus gives the door a good push, but the door only opens a sliver. someone has bolted the door shut from the inside with the latch lock. Fortunately whoever locked the door forgot to lock the deadbolt lock, however the latch lock will be hard to undo, and the open space between the door and the wall is to narrow for any hand to fit in and unlatch the lock.

Frustrated Patroclus gives ithe door a swift kick; however it still does not budge and the latch lock remains secure. Suddenly his nerves get the best of him and he yanks at his scalp in annoyance and worry. If he doesn’t hurry up and find a way in to Briseis's hotel room she could be hurt or dead by the time he confronts Hector!

“Think Patroclus! Think!”

He mumbles to himself; rubbing his sweaty palms into his eyes and knocking his forehead against the door. His mouth feels dry and he chews on his bottom lip with such vigor that he begins to taste copper. Frantically he slides his hands upon the door; trying to find some way he can get into the room. An idea strikes him and he takes action immediately. 

Lining himself up with the edge of the bronze plating that connects the latch lock to the door, Patroclus angles his body so that his shoulder will smash into that single spot, and he springs forward with all his strength. The impact of his tackle sends him backwards, but with balanced footing he manages to keep himself from falling over. At first the door is unaffected by his determined tackle, but with a second hit a small crack appears in the wood near the lock, and the latch tilts slightly downwards on its hook. Patroclus kneads his sore shoulder, which is now most likely bruised,and once more he rams himself into the door. With a splintering shower of wood chips and plaster, the lock breaks off of the door, and it hangs loosely on the now chipped edge of the white wall.

A dusty cloud of paint chips dances in the air that has filled the empty space Patroclus can now cross. He smiles proudly for just a moment at his accomplishment and races into the hotel room with only one thought on his mind; save Briseis. The sheer rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins is a boost of delightful energy to Patroclus’s worn out body and he eagerly drinks in his temporary boost of power. He knows that when his adrenaline runs out he will most likely collapse from exhaustion and he must get to Briseis before then. 

As Patroclus searches throughout the hotel room he realizes that he wasn’t expecting Briseis’s room to be as large as it is. Clearly Hector and Briseis have rented a master suite that is made of two hotel rooms combined. Patroclus has already looked in two kitchens and one bathroom to find nothing but a few broken dishes. With a sharp turn to the right he makes his way through a messy dining room consisting of the same dining room table he and Achilles share, however it is covered in bills and a large assortment of different colored glass bottles. The room is flooded with the stench of alcohol and the smell has Patroclus recalling unpleasant past memories of his father who reeked of alcohol after Patroclus's childhood mistake.

_“Gay. You are gay! You kissed a boy and nearly killed him! You kissed a boy! What will you do when you grow older? Will you sleep with a man? Are you even a boy?! Can you even become a man?! I can’t believe what you have done! Have you no shame for me? For the only family you have left! You are a stupid boy! You are no son of mine. You show me no pride. You only show me disrespect. You will be punished for this! Punished!”_ _A bottle is thrown at young Patroclus, hitting him in the chest, and shattering upon the floor in a mess of glass and amber liquid. Tears fall down the young boy’s face, sobs wrecking his body, and sending him down to his knees as his father’s dark figure looms above him._ _“What have I done wrong, father?! Why are you angry? I only want to make you proud! I have A’s in English and science! Father! Father, why are you angry? Why-“_ _A painful slap across the young boy’s face has his mouth closing like a spring trap; quick and silent. Speechless and frightened he can only stare back at the eyes of the man he used to look up to. Those eyes that were once full of pride and happiness for his son only show disappointment and hate. Young Patroclus curls in upon himself like a wounded animal; frightened, wide eyed, and trembling._ _“Fath- Father?”_ _The boy whines weakly as his father’s hand clamps down upon his head, grabbing the boy’s curly hair in a thick handful, and lifting him off the ground as a predator would pick up its prey. Young Patroclus kicks his legs in the air as the ground below him shrinks away. His neck hurts from being lifted up like this and he tries to tell his father, however his father acts deaf, and shakes the poor boy to shut him up again. Suddenly his father’s fist flies towards his stomach and-_

Patroclus snaps out of his memories collapsing onto the floor with a wretched cry. His previous meal spews from his mouth in a multicolored spray of vomit as his body heaves on the floor. With a grunt he manages to grab onto one of the legs of the dining room table and clumsily hoist himself up. He can hardly stand as his knees shake below him, but he has to keep going. He has to stay calm. He has to remember that he is here right now and not in his memories. He has to avoid any more panic attacks. With that thought in mind, he places his hand over his nose, and continues to make his way through the room; ignoring the urge to sit down. He can’t stop now. Not when he is so close to Briseis.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Just as Patroclus approaches the next doorway, a horrid high pitch scream echoes in the air, and is followed by a violent crash. Patroclus runs as fast as he can towards the scream. That sound could only have belonged to Briseis. It was the same cry she had made upon the beach when Achilles accidentally injured her.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When Patroclus reaches the room where the scream came from it takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. All the blinds have been pulled shut in the room and the only light that is on is from a glowing hotel lamp in the corner of the room. Patroclus makes out the figure of another lamp on the floor; the lamp shade is bent in odd angles and the light bulb is flickering like a dying candle flame. Next to the lamp appears to be something smooth and black resembling thick syrup and the dark liquid follows upwards onto the beige wall in a warped line like spilled ink upon parchment. It only takes a few second for Patroclus to gasp as he realizes what he sees is blood; too much blood.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Patroclus grows cold. He feet frozen in place as his eyes follow the trail of blood up the wall and towards a familiar figure; Briseis. She is standing there with her hands clenched to her side covering a large gash that is torn through her skin and bloodstained shirt. Tears are streaming down her face; muddy in the yellow light. She is grimacing at the shadow of a man before her; her jaw clenched tightly and her body standing proudly. Patroclus watches as she tilts her head up and forces a tiny smirk on her face. She’s trying to look brave… No she is brave. She’s trying to prove to Hector that she will not give in to Hector. Not ever again.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The shadow laughs at Briseis; its heavy laughter snapping Patroclus out of his trance and all at once Patroclus finds himself running forward, harshly shoving the shadow he believes to be Hector to the ground. The shadow lets out a sound of surprise at the sudden attack and Patroclus pulls back his hand to land a punch upon Hector, only to be lifted up by his wrist, and thrown backwards in a stumbling heap. He painfully skids upon the hardwood floor; his back hitting the wall and sending the air out of his lungs as his head swings from the momentum, slamming into the hard surface behind him. The impact makes Patroclus dizzy; however he manages to stand up again by leaning back on the wall for leverage. He won’t give up this easily. Briseis is here. He found her and she needs him. He will not let his friend be hurt anymore. As long as he is breathing he will fight for her freedom.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And just who is this?!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The shadow yells. Patroclus can hear a shuffling of footsteps and unexpectedly blinding light fills the room. He winces in the bright sunlight that is now coming from the uncovered window and holds his hand in front of his face trying to make out the image of the shadow that threw him; Hector.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector is huge! Not huge as in fat, but completely stocked with muscles; lean muscles that can easily be seen in his arms and through the fabric of his tight black shirt he is wearing and ripped blue jeans. His face is nothing like Patroclus thought it would look like. What Patroclus thought would be a face full of stubble and harsh lines like his father’s face is actually a face that is smooth with gentle features, however his eyes are filled with rage, and Patroclus can sense the madness that flickers behind his handsome features. It is no wonder Briseis fell in love with this man; he’s visually stunning; a perfect visage of beauty, however within his beauty lies corruption of power and control. This man is a true monster, camouflaged in beauty and dripping with poison.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Briseis, who is this man?!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector shouts again and suddenly a silver object in the man’s hand is brought into view and pointed at Briseis’s throat; a knife. Seeing the knife has Patroclus shifting forward and Hector shoots him a warning glare as not to move; edging the knife closer to Briseis’s skin until she can feel the warm metal that is already laced with her blood upon her bare throat.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“He is no one. I have never seen him before in my life. Maybe he is a hotel employee?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

She lies and Patroclus can only watch as Hector takes a step forward, grabbing her shoulder in his free hand, and giving it a painful squeeze. She lets out a whelp and tries not to shift away as she feels the pressure of the blade even closer on her skin. One wrong move and she could be bleeding to death with a slit throat in mere seconds.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Do not lie to me.”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector growls lowly and Briseis glares back at him with pure venom in her eyes.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Why should it matter who he is? Why should you care who he is?! Just leave him alone, Hector! Hate me all you want, but this stranger is innocent. Do not hurt him. If you hurt him… I will not hesitate to rip you to pieces with that cheap little blade of yours!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Briseis’s voice shakes as she tries to strong and unafraid. She is trying to protect Patroclus and Patroclus hates how he can’t just run to her and shove Hector away. He should be the one protecting her not her protecting him.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Briseis’s response to Hector only causes the man to sneer.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Do you think I am stupid, Briseis!? Do you actually believe that I am an idiot?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He leans his face closer to hers,

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You think I do not know who this man could be?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He scoffs and shakes his head,

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I am disappointed in you, Briseis. This is one of your camping partners from the beach. Am I wrong?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He asks. Briseis tries to keep her face indifferent, however worry causes her eyes to shift towards Patroclus, and Hector catches her small glimpse. He lets out an annoyed murmur and grabs the back of Briseis neck forcing a choked whimper from Briseis’s lips as a few drops of blood crawl down her skin from the pressure of the blade.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Have you had sex with this man? Do you love him?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector’s voice is quite and it takes Patroclus a little bit for his ears to register what he said. Briseis only blinks back at Hector in shock.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hector wha-”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He presses the blade further into her neck, the tip now slightly under the tan surface of her skin, and bends Briseis’s head back; exposing more of her throat. The few crimson droplets of blood that were rolling down her neck join together in a small trickling stream that leaks down upon her chest. Frightened by the feeling of the sharp blade and warm rolling blood Briseis clinches her eyes shut. Patroclus tries to take a step forward once more, but Hector notices his movement, and he presses on the blade causing more drops of blood to escape Briseis skin.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I will ask again, Briseis. Do you love him? Have you fucked this man?”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector asks, but Briseis’s brain can hardly comprehend his words as fear has numbed her thoughts. He takes her silence as a yes before she can even respond, releases her, and punches his fist into the wall behind her. His hand goes right through the wall as if it is flimsy cardboard instead of plastered drywall and reinforced wood.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Briseis!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector yells in her face and enraged tears burst from his eyes. Patroclus stares in confusion at the sudden shed of tears and tries to get closer to Briseis as Hector is distracted by his own emotions.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Was I not good enough for you?! All I have ever wanted is the best for you! You belong to me! I love you! Is that not enough?!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector shouts. Briseis does not react. Her face has grown blank and her eyes dull. If Patroclus doesn’t hurry and save her soon, she is going to pass out, or worse. Her body is already going through shock as she quivers upon the wall.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I have shown you what other men in this world can do to you, Briseis! I showed you even though it made me feel terrible! I have only ever wanted to protect you! How could you betray me like this?! Do you not see how much I love you? How much I care for you?! Everything that I have done for you!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Suddenly Hector is backing away and the knife retreats from Briseis’s neck, however Briseis’s stays still against the wall, her eyes are shut and Patroclus wonders if she has passed out. Hector retreats further away from her and Patroclus’s feels a kindle of hope. This is his chance. If he times this right he can jump in and push Briseis away from Hector, knock the knife from his Hector’s hand, and they can escape together.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Briseis, that man cannot protect you! Only I can! I am the only one who can! I am nothing but good to you! This man will only show you lies and hurt! I have shown you what men like him do. They cannot be trusted! You should trust only me! Briseis, tell me that you choose me over this man!” 

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Briseis, tell me!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector demands and shakes her shoulders. The action sends Briseis’s mind back into function and her eyes open wide, however her words are stuck in her throat, and her mouth only gaps open in silence like a fish out of water.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hector lets out a beastly roar and turns around with his hands clenching the knife to his chest. Now is Patroclus’s chance! Just as Patroclus is about to push Briseis away from Hector, the man runs forward with a mixed look of agony, remorse ,hate, and disgust.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“If I cannot protect you then nobody can! I will show you what men like him do! Briseis!”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The blade in Hector’s hand takes a menacing jab forward and before Patroclus can even think he shields Briseis with his body. The blade pierces through his stomach like a bolt of lightning; searing through him with a jolting pain and lodging itself in him swifter then he can blink. The blade twists and a scorching heat spreads through the front of Patroclus’s shirt. A piercing scream fills his ears and it takes him awhile to notice that the scream is coming from himself and Briseis. His lungs heave in gasps of agony and his eyelids suddenly feel way too heavy. His body is starting to feel numb. He thinks about the warmth of Achilles’s arms around his body instead of the warmth of his own blood upon his skin, Achilles’s gentle kisses instead of the bile and reddened spit that protrudes from his mouth, Achilles’s musical laughter instead of the shrill ringing in his ears, and Achilles’s brilliant smile instead of the gnawing pain that is eating him away.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

There is an odd sensation creeping into Patroclus’s head and he cannot help but feel as though he is falling as darkness consumes the edges of his vision. Just as he is about to lose his complete sight, a fuzzy blur of gold flashes in front of him, and it reminds him of Achilles. He swears that he can faintly hear Achilles right now; his blossoming pleasant voice sounding more strained than usual, however Patroclus knows that he is only imaging this. Achilles is hurt and lying on the floor of his hotel room because of Patroclus. If only he could tell Achilles he was sorry.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Achilles…”

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He yearningly whispers and the last of Patroclus’s energy fades away into the air like thin mist upon a dreary lake. His consciousness disappears into the shadows that surround him and his vision turns pitch black. At last he feels no more pain and he lulls himself into the ease of peaceful slumber. His body relaxes and his breathing grows soft and slow. Finally he can rest and no longer feel the pain of the world around him. His shadows have won… No… The shadows of the world have won.

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA! What a way to end this chapter! Sorry to leave you hanging like this, but I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can. Once again thank you all for your patience and stay strong!


	18. Consumed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness, anger, fear, rage, sorrow... emotions can consume all of us. Even the mightiest warrior can fall prey to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have prepared yourself for lots of tears and emotions, because this chapter is going to be full of angst and drama! It's another cliffhanger chapter! I am so sorry, but the next chapter may take a while to get out due to my college life and poor study habits. I'll try to get it posted when I can, however I am still in the process of writing it and I have to revise/edit it. Anways, enjoy this chapter and thank you for reading my fanfiction! Feel free to leave comments below whenever you want to. :) Enjoy...
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> *Violence  
> *Language

Achilles rises off of the floor with confusion and worry. He can feel a headache coming on as tension forms a tight band around his head. On instinct his hand shoots up to rub his head and ease the pain, causing him to wince as his fingers brush against the bump that has formed on top of his skull from Patroclus’s blunt fist. The dull stinging pain reminds him of Patroclus’s departure and he lets out a heavy sigh. It was hard to make out what Patroclus was saying when he left, however Achilles knows that he could have only been saying two things. The first thing was probably an apology and the next thing was probably him stating that he is going to go to Briseis’s room to save her. With that in mind, Achilles paces quickly out of his room, and he runs to the room he saw Patroclus at once before. He finds the door of the room broken open with the lock hanging onto the wall by a single screw. Seeing the damage to the door makes Achilles even more concerned than before. Patroclus could be in a situation that is way over his head. Patroclus could be hurt or worse. If anyone has hurt Patroclus… well… they will be in for more than they ever bargained for. Achilles’s wrath is something no one should provoke.

“Patroclus!”

Achilles calls out as he steps into the dark void behind the door. There is no answer and he steps further into the pitch black room.

“Patroclus!”

Achilles’s shouts louder. Still there is no answer. Desperately Achilles wishes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness around him so that he can see in the dim room. He tries to remember the building plans his mother showed him when she had purchased this old hotel from its previous manager and he curses as he realizes the room he has stepped into is a master suite. Finding Patroclus in a double jointed room may be a little more difficult in the dark.

“-Briseis!”

A strange voice shatters the quiet and Achilles urgently moves towards the direction the voice came from. Closer and closer to the voice, Achilles’s surroundings finally become visible, and he is in utter disgust at the amount of damage and debris around him; Expensive bottles of alcohol are scattered everywhere in broken shards, more bottles piled upon the dining room table, cluttered trays of ash spilled upon the cream colored carpet, and bouquets of dead flowers littered around the hotel room in glass vases and plastic hotel cups. This room is completely trashed and Achilles can only guess the room connected to this one must be just as bad. A scream distracts him from his thoughts and runs as fast as he can towards the sound.

Achilles emerges from the darkness behind him and into a room of bright sunlight. A overbearing sent of blood is pungent in the air like a thick fog and Achilles closes his eyes and has to hold his breath to keep from gagging. Blood has never bothered him before but… the thought that this smell may be from Patroclus’s blood has Achilles feeling sick. His eyes open and any breath he was still holding escapes from him in sudden shock.

In front of Achilles is Patroclus.

Patroclus, with his beautiful honey colored eyes struggling to stay open. Patroclus, with his lovely hands struggling to stay grasped onto Briseis’s blood covered arms. Patroclus, with his soft lips turning ashen gray and his tan skin fading into light porcelain. Patroclus, with a blade grotesquely lodged into his stomach causing blood to pour upon the floor from his punctured flesh. Patroclus, frightened, wounded, screaming and… Dying. 

Weakly Patroclus’s head turns to the side as his screams change into gargled moans. Bright green eyes meet dull brown eyes and Achilles feels his heart stop for a moment before he launches himself towards Patroclus, gathering the frail brunet in his arms, and cradling his forehead upon his own; Achilles’s blonde curls stick to Patroclus’s sweaty forehead like the day they accepted each other’s love on the beach.

“Pat-Patroclus…”

Achilles voice breaks as he tries to say what he wants to say, but he finds his throat tight, his body shaking with grief, and his words strangled by his emotions.

“Stay with me… Please… You are going to be okay… you are going to be…”

A puff of warm air gently glides onto Achilles’s skin,

“-lles.”

Achilles’s eyes widen and his heart sinks further into his chest. He places his hand upon Patroclus’s cheek; fondly stroking the soft skin with his thumb and wiping away splotches of tears that trail down Patroclus’s pained face.

“Shhhh… I’m right here... I’m right here Patroclus… my dear philtatos... I’m right here… Don’t go… Look at me… Stay with me… Please look at me… Pat… Patroclus…”

Patroclus lets out a small agonized cry and Achilles holds him tighter.

“It’s okay Patroclus… It’s going to be okay… I’ve got you… I’m here…stay with me… please stay with me, Pat-ro-clus… plea-”

Achilles’s crumbling voice is halted as Patroclus’s body sags limply in his arms. The brunet’s lips part,

“Achilles…”

The whisper is almost too quite to hear as it disappears onto Achilles’s skin and causes the blonde to gasp.

“Patroclus?”

Achilles whispers back but is met with no answer.

“Patroclus!”

He says a bit firmer and his body goes stiff and ridged.

“Pat?”

He moves the brunet’s head off of his own and it droops down onto his chest.

“Patroclus? Hey…”

He gives Patroclus’s shoulders a little shake but nothing happens and the honeyed eyes before him remain closed.

“Pat-”

Achilles voice cracks.”

“Patroclus… Hey... open your eyes, Pat.”

He shakes the brunet’s shoulders again and his head loosely bobs against Achilles’s chest.

“Please Patroclus, open your eyes… Look at me... I’m right here. Please…”

Achilles world is shattering apart and there’s nothing he can do to fix it as he shakes Patroclus’s shoulders once more. Nothing has changed except for the expression on Patroclus’s face; once pained and now peaceful.

“Patroclus… Please… I love you… Don’t go… Wake up…. Please open your eyes… Pat…. Pat-ro-clus…”

Achilles’s voice wavers weakly and his hand falls away from Patroclus’s cheek. A devastated scream escapes Achilles in an explosion of grief as he crushes Patroclus’s body to his chest. The fabric of Patroclus’s shirt becomes a crumpled mess in Achilles’s hands as he clutches onto Patroclus’s back; afraid to let go, afraid to look at Patroclus’s colorless cheeks, afraid to except this reality. The once so warm and kind Patroclus is now cold and silent in his arms. The composure of the glorious, strong, warrior Achilles once carried seeps out of his body in a relentless downpour of tears that merge into the puddle of Patroclus’s blood. Achilles weeps into Patroclus’s neck. His ever present golden glow corroding away into darkened deep blues and black shadows. The feeling of invincibility he had felt when he was with Patroclus is gone; replaced by the cruel knowing of mortality and all its irreversible flaws.

“Let me go! I can save him! I can still save him! Please! Ple-”

A voice to the left of Achilles is shouting, but Achilles eyes remain on Patroclus’s lifeless body. His mind is blank and his ears are numb to the thrashing noises around him.

“Achilles, please help me! I can save him!”

Achilles brushes his hand through Patroclus’s shaggy hair. He should have taken Patroclus to his hair salon. He needs another haircut. He would have looked good with a clean haircut and a tuxedo, dancing with him at one of his mother’s dances, drinking fine wine with him in Greece, kissing him in the moonlight, smiling like a love struck fool in the sunlight...

“Achilles!”

Achilles finally hears his name and his eyes snap up to meet those of a very weak Briseis. She’s blinking quickly as she tries to remain conscious and struggles in Hectors arms.

“Achilles!”

She shouts again; biting Hector’s shoulder as he curses at her.

Hector has Briseis thrown over his shoulder like a sack of flour and blood is dripping down his side. Briseis kicks her feet like a small child throwing a tantrum and she hates how weak she is right now. Stupid blood loss! Stupid Hector! If she could just get out of Hector’s arms she could save Patroclus. There is still time for him to recover. If she could just get free and try CPR on him, maybe it would work?

“Achilles! Help me! I can save Patroclus!”

She continues to yell and the Achilles’s face suddenly twists into a violent sneer. His blood is boiling at the sight of Hector. Without thinking Achilles runs full force into the man, knocking Briseis from his arms, and sending Hector colliding into the only lamp left standing in the room. The lamp breaks in a series of sparks upon the floor and Achilles wraps his hands around the man’s throat.

“You!”

Achilles rage is beyond control and Briseis watches fearfully as she crawls upon the floor to Patroclus. She tries to stand but her legs only fold beneath her from loss of blood and her panicking nerves.

“You killed him!”

Achilles’s voice no longer sounds like his own; Any softness it once had is replaced with echoes of loss and anger that resound in the air like the howls of an indescribable, terrible, beast.

Hector manages to twist out of Achilles’s grip, and he pushes the blonde backwards into a wall only to be shoved away with incredible force. Hector’s face is hit with the hard knuckles of Achilles’s fist and he stumbles backwards before regaining his balance by grabbing onto a desk behind him.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?!” 

Hector asks, spitting crimson on to the floor, and rubbing his noise with the back of his hand. He mumbles something about it being broken under his breath and Achilles’s body shakes in rage. This man irritates him. This man killed Patroclus. This man is scum. He doesn’t deserve to be in the same room Patroclus’s body is in. The room where Patroclus died.

Ignoring the man’s words, Achilles lets out a cry of war, and flies forward with his fist in the air. Hector merely doges the blow as if Achilles was just a pesky fly and Achilles’s send him a glare of pure hatred as he turns his body to aim at Hector’s face once more. Hector doges again and kicks out at Achilles legs, sending the blonde to the ground, and causing Achilles to yelp in pain as a sharp object is struck into his heel. He looks up to see Hector with the same bloody knife he used on Patroclus and Briseis in his hand. When did he get the knife? Was Achilles to lost in his own emotions to see Hector grab the knife from Patroclus's body? Mabye Hector has two knifes? However he grabbed the knife doesn't matter, not when he's standing before Achilles, a crazy, chaotic, smile stretched across his face. Achilles tries to push himself up, but falls back down; his foot cannot bear his weight and Hector laughs at Achilles’s pathetic attempt to stand.

The shrilling sound of Hector’s laugh has Achilles snarling like a mad animal as he tries once more to stand. His hands slide painfully along the floor, gathering broken shards of glass and wood into his palms where they bead into red drops of blood that drip down his fingertips. With a wobbly stance he manages to balance out his weight on his other ankle and limp towards Hector with black pupils as large as the fresh void in his heart.

“Not bad…”

Hector snickers and takes a stance; spreading his feet apart and opening his arms, ready for Achilles to tackle. Achilles smirks and before Hector can register what is happening, he finds himself flipped onto the floor, with Achilles on top of him.

“You… You kicked my legs with that useless foot of yours?”

Hector asks confused, but is only met with a dark laugh and bloodshot eyes. The eerie laugh sends a shiver of fear down Hector’s spine as he realizes what felt like a game to him was battle to the death for the blonde haired man before him.

“You killed Patroclus.”

Achilles's voice is solid and Hector blinks back,

“He got in my way.”

Achilles’s hands wrap around Hector’s throat as they did earlier and Hector squirms in Achilles's grip trying to escape. His face has cowered into a face of anger and fright; for once in his life Hector is afraid. Achilles’s hands tighten and Hector lets out a scared wheeze as the air is strangled from his throat.

“You- You lov-loved him-di-din’t yo-u?”

Hector chokes and Achilles’s grip loosens as his face turns blank and sorrow once again fills his eyes instead of anger. Hector wiggles in the lose grip, however Achilles knees are a sturdy weight upon his chest.

“Great, a fag is going to kill me all because I killed his lousy cock sucking boyfriend…”

Hector grumbles and tries to push Achilles’s off. Achilles catches Hector’s words and rage fills his features again.

“Patroclus was everything! He was my everything and you fucking murdered him!”

Achilles yells into Hector’s face and the man wrinkles his nose in disgust as spit flies from Achilles’s mouth. Achilles strong voice is breaking into raw sobs and his hands grip firmly around the man’s throat that is tinged with bright red hand prints. Achilles’s is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Hectors hand edging its way towards the bloodstained blade he had dropped by Achilles’s side.

“Please-”

Hector coughs as Achilles’s fingers dig into his skin; nails breaking the surface in small red crescents.

“Let me be buried nex-next to Bri-Brieses. I love h-her. She’s go-going to bl-bleed out s-s-soon. Plea-please.”

Hector continues to reach feebly for the blade as Achilles applies more and more pressure around his neck.

“I loved… No… I still love Patroclus… I love Patroclus and you killed him! Men like you don’t deserve someone like Briseis. Someone Patroclus worked so hard to protect. Someone he cared for. You don’t deserve a burial next to someone like that. You deserve to die right here. You deserve to stay here rotting in this room until someone finds you! You deserve no burial. You deserve only a lonely death and empty burial. You deserve to die alone and to remain alone even after you die!"

Achilles presses down on Hector’s throat. His eyes are shadowed with the cruelties of this world and he finally understands the darkness Patroclus always spoke of. He eagerly lets the dark shadows of the world consume him. He lets the darkness eat him raw as he squeezes Hector’s throat like one would squeeze an orange; easily and with no regrets or thoughts. Suddenly a cold sensation buries itself into Achilles’s chest right between his ribs and blooms into an agonizing pain that Achilles has never felt before. He releases an aching and tired scream as his green eyes gaze down to see the same silver blade that killed Patroclus wedged between his ribs. A feeling of peaceful satisfaction floods Achilles’s body at the sight of the object. His grip on Hector’s throat slides away and with a gasp of relief he falls onto his side. Achilles’s head strikes the floor with a solemn thud; a smile forming across his lips as his mind can only think of one thing,

“Pat-ro-clus…”

The high-pitched shrill of an ambulance echoes in his ears and his eyes shut; a single tear falls down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I told you it was a cliffhanger. I hope you are okay and please be patient with me for the next chapter. Listen to some good songs and eat some sweets or sweet fruits! You deserve some happiness after this chapter!


	19. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles wakes up in a hospital but... Where is Patroclus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters left to this story! I hope you all have been enjoying it so far! :) Thank you all for your support and comments! Thetis finally makes her appearance in this chapter.

Bleach and latex; the overpowering scent of both cleaning products and latex gloves knock Achilles into consciousness with a sudden surge. His body twitches awake in small muscle spasms as he tries to lift his head up, only for it to fall back down upon a flattened pillow. His green eyes now fully opened, quickly flutter shut; his vision blinded by a white overhead light. There is a dull ache between his ribs that is increasing into an aching throb, causing Achilles’s to let out a pained and confused groan. His numb arms press down upon the mattress below him as he tries to shift his position. He manages to roll over on to his side, becoming tangled in a stuffy mess of hot blankets and thin crisp sheets.

_Where is he? Why is he here? What is going on? Is he at the hotel? Why is he on a bed?_

His head throbs and he lets out another groan; this one sounded a little more frustrated than hurt.

_Where is… Where is Patroclus? Where is he?! Where’s-_

“P…Pat...ro…c…lu…s…”

Achilles’s tries to speak. He tries to scream. He desperately tries to say Patroclus’s name, however his words come out as short broken fragments that are no louder than a whisper. Tears well up in the corner of Achilles’s eyes as he begins to panic, wishing for nothing more than a glass of water for his parched throat and to be reunited with Patroclus.

As salt begins to burn Achilles’s eyes, he slowly blinks his eyes open, and squints under the light above him. His fists clinch the sheets in front of him as his mind tries to recall what happened to him. His mind is fuzzy; All his thoughts hazed over with the slow drip of medicine leaking into his veins from a half-filled I.V. Somewhere in the distance Achilles’s can make out the sound of a continuous beep from some kind of machine. The machine matches the rhythm of his own fast pounding heartbeat and starts to get on Achilles’s nerves.

Annoyed by the beeping machine that keeps drowning out his thoughts, Achilles starts to pull at the tubes and strange clips attached to his fingers on his right hand and his wrist. As he pulls on the cords the machine’s beeping increases louder. He hopes that pulling out one of these medical cords will shut the machine up so he can focus on his thoughts. He needs to remember what happened.

Without thinking, Achilles peels off a layer of overly sticky tape with his teeth, and rips out the small plastic tube that is inserted into his wrist with a silver needle. A thought suddenly strikes him and he remembers Patroclus telling him about a tube like this. Patroclus spoke of this kind of tube when he was showing of his knowledge of medical terms and instruments, however Achilles cannot recall exactly what Patroclus said about this kind of medical tool, and he hopes that it is not anything too important. Finally, after removing the clip on his index finger, the beeping machine shuts down, and Achilles lets out a sigh of relief. Already he can feel his thoughts gradually coming together and his heart settling into its normal beat.

After a few minutes of thinking, a rush of nausea dives into Achilles’s gut, and he frantically pushes himself into a sitting position. He feels dizzy from the chemical scent surrounding him and the pain that is doubling in between his ribs and sore muscles. Hesitantly, he looks down at where the pain is coming from. A pink splotch is coming through his pale blue hospital gown. He gently lifts up his gown to see a band of white bandages wrapped around his rib cage. Part of the bandages is turning red and he worries the he might have opened up some stiches or something when he sat up.

Achilles watches the bandages; waiting to see if the red grows larger upon the clean cloth, but it stops, and he pulls his hospital gown back over his cold skin. A shiver causes his body to shudder and he pulls on the blankets he had kicked off of him just a few minutes before he set up.

Sweat has formed a moist puddle along Achilles lower back and he can feel it steadily drip down his temples from his wet brow. He feels sick and the smell around him is only making his nausea worsen. Staying still, he closes his eyes, and hopes that the smell around him fades. Even though he is sitting up, he can’t help but think that sleep sounds really good right now. He would not mind falling back into his previous slumber that dulled his pain.

Suddenly the nausea that was swimming in Achilles’s stomach climbs its way up his throat. A chunky slime of blood and saliva bursts from his mouth and stains the starch white sheets; sliding onto the waxed linoleum floor, his shaking hands, and down his chin. He chokes on the liquid; gagging at the smell and his head spins with lightheadedness.

The loud slam of a door to his right has Achilles hiding his face in his dirty hands, ashamed of his weakness at the moment, and of his mess. He shouldn’t be here. He should be with Patroclus. He should be strong and walk away from this place but… Right now his body is not as strong as his mind. Achilles’s has never felt like this in his whole life. He has always been a warrior, yet as of now he feels defeated.

Images of a bloody knife, a man with a crazy grin, and Briseis wounded and gasping in a corner as she holds onto Patroclus explodes into Achilles’s mind as Achilles hacks up even more pink ooze. Everything seems unreal as his stomach empties and he begins to dry heave. Someone is talking to him, stroking his check, and brushing his hair out of his face. Whoever it is speaks to him with worry laced in their tone, however he can’t make out what they are saying. It’s almost as if someone has left a radio on playing it at low volume. Achilles tries to keep his attention on the voice as the spinning world around him evens out. Arms are wrap around him in a tight embrace and Achilles stiffens.

“My son… My dear Achilles.”

His mother’s voice rings clearly in Achilles’s ears and he wants to hug her back, but finds his arms stuck to his sides. It feels strange… being held by her… She has only ever hugged him like this when he was a child. Her hand rubs small circles on his back and his body gradually unwinds. He has not felt this comfortable with his mother for a long time. Sure, Thetis give’s him money here and there so he can live comfortably, and of course she loves him, but it has been a long time since she has showed physical affection to Achilles, probably since the day her and his father ‘took a break from each other’ as she put it.

“Mother…”

Achilles smiles in his mother’s arms and she shifts so she can see her son’s face.

“I am so glad you are alright.”

Thetis says and frowns slightly at the bruise upon Achilles’s cheek and the scratch above his eye.

Achilles’s take in his mother’s appearance with a little bit of surprise. Her perfectly straight black hair is thrown up in a messy bun, her ironed clothes are wrinkled, and her make up is smudged from crying. Dark bags of purple and streaks of black mascara underline her astonishing dark blue eyes that almost appear to be black. Her normal professional look is disheveled with worry. It has honestly been a long time since Achilles’s has seen his mother with this much emotion upon her face. The discomfort he felt earlier with is mother is coming back to him even though he tries to shake it off.

“I- I was worried.”

Thetis’s voice trembles a bit and she quickly catches her stutter, changing her voice back to her usually strictly proud voice.

“The nurses in the waiting room were scrambling around to find a doctor. Your heart monitor showed up with a flat line and I came running up here as fast as I could! I saw you moving around through the window so I told the doctor you were fine and well…”

She looks to the side. Her eyes glint with the familiar sharp stare Achilles’s is accustomed to and she grabs his wrist in her hands. Her eyes dart about, growing wide with realization at what her son did, and her brows furrow.

“Achilles!”

This is the usual tone Achilles knows so well. It’s unbelievable how many times he has been scolded by his mother.

“Why did you take out your I.V and your heart monitor!?”

Her voice rises angrily and Achilles’s can’t help but laugh at his mother’s rage.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I was confused and I did not like the sounds around me.”

He says simply and Thetis’s glare narrows at his laugh. Her anger fade away in heavy sigh and her shoulders sag.

“Achilles, you need to be careful. Someday I may come to the hospital and find you dead from your reckless habits of fighting. You are my son and I will not sit here idly and watch you ruin your life! Please, stop worrying me like this. You know how I feel about you fighting. You always end up hurting someone. I do not want someone you hurt to hurt you back. This time, on top of you almost being beaten death, you also managed to completely wreck one of my hotel rooms… well I guess it was a mess already from the guest staying there. My staff should have told me about the man who was paying for the room. I was told by one of my maids that he did not let anyone enter the room and was persistent to keep people out. Anyone who rents a room at my hotel knows that if you rent a room for a month to stay in that I have no problem with them staying, but my staff must enter the room at least once in the three weeks the guest stays, or at least once a month for every month the guest stays. This man was either very clever to trick my staff into disobeying me or very aggressive at keeping my staff away. Someone should have said something to me. Now I have to deal with going to court. You should have called me or texted me! There was no need for you to fight this man to save your mother’s hotel!”

Achilles’s blinks confused,

“Save the hotel?”

He questions and Thetis nods while crossing her arms,

“Yes, save the hotel. That is why you fought this man, correct? This is the only reason I can think of unless you just wanted to pick a fight with a total stranger.”

Achilles shakes his head as more images of Patroclus painfully crawl into his skull. He recalls Patroclus whispering in his ear and all at once his memories come back to him.

“No. No! No….”

Achilles pants; his hands clutching his heart. He looks around in a panic before springing out of his hospital bed. His legs quake and his body melts to the floor as his legs collapse underneath him from days of misuse. Just how long has he been in this hospital? Where’s Patroclus?

“Achilles!”

Thetis is by his side in an instant. She grabs her son and lifts him back into the hospital bed with ease so that he sits on the edge of the bed. She may look thin and pretty, but her strength is as great as Achilles’s own strength. 

“Achilles, what is wrong? Should I call for the doctor?”

She asks and he tries once more to get up only to be pushed back down by his mother.

“Achilles.”

She says firmly, wanting an answer from her son. His eyes lock firmly on hers and she can see the alarm that is consuming his mind. Something is wrong and she needs to know what.

“Tell me.”

She demands.

“Patroclus- Pat-”

Achilles starts coughing and Thetis swiftly goes to the sink to pour him some lukewarm tap water in a cheap plastic cup. He takes the cup from her the instant she brings it to him and greedily chugs down the liquid; grateful that the water is not to hot or too cold on his dry throat. He chokes a little on the water as he tries to ask about Patroclus and thumps his chest with his fist a few times to clear his words. Thetis leans forward and places her hands on her son’s knees, hoping that the gesture will help him calm down.

“Achilles’s slow down. I cannot understand anything you are saying.”

She speaks to him softly and he nods his head, taking a deep breath before he tells her everything that happened at the hotel room and a little before that. He decides to keep his activities with Patroclus on the beach out of his spill and Thetis listens with patience, nodding her head when she needs to, and responding to what he says with little interest until he finally speaks about why he entered Hector’s room and the man with honey colored eyes named Patroclus.

“I walked into the room and found Patroclus bleeding. Hector stabbed him! He was badly injured but Briseis said she could help him. Did she help him? Is he alright?! I need to know where he is mother! Please, have you seen Patroclus? Do you know where he is?!”

Achilles frantically tries to get out of bed again, but his mother has firmly keeps her grasp on his knees. He needs to find Patroclus. What is she doing? Why won’t she let him go?

“This man…”

Thetis’s voice wanders off. Her eyes look at Achilles’s fidgeting hands then back to his face.

“He’s the roommate you mentioned to me before. He and you are… together? You’re gay?”

His mother looks shocked and… furious?

“Yes.”

Achilles’s answer floats in the heavy silence. The only thing that can be heard is the small beep of the heart monitor machine that his mother attached back onto his finger. Thetis looks lost in thought and Achilles places his hand upon his mother’s hand.

“Please mother, if you know where Patroclus is… You need to tell me. I love him. I love Patroclus.”

Thetis is shocked by her son’s answer. She’s not sure what to think. All her life she has seen her son chasing after women. Him being gay would explain why Achilles’s wound up breaking up with any of his dates before the night was over. She always thought that it was the woman’s fault and never her son’s fault that things did not work out but… maybe it was her son’s fault after all. She always hoped he would marry a fine woman and they would pass on her family name but… This man named Patroclus…He has flawed her son. How will he pass down their family name and bring himself honor if he loves a man? This man has somehow captured her son’s heart and now it is too easy for her son to be hurt by this man; That is to say, if her son is not too damaged already by this man.

Thetis looks to her son; mapping out his bruises and scrapes with her eyes. She sees a dark stain upon his hospital gown and her heart aches at what she knows is blood. Her son was stabbed because he was trying to save some man named Patroclus. Some man her son apparently loved after just a few days together.

“Mother...Please, I need to know. Where is Patroclus? Is he okay? Is he alive?"

Achilles’s pleads and she closes her eyes to think.

Thetis recalls this name; Patroclus. She saw the name on the list of registered patients when she was trying to find Achilles’s hospital room. Achilles’s said he was stabbed, this means Patroclus probably will not be up for a while, or that he is already up, but is too weak to leave his bed just like her son. Should she tell Achilles that Patroclus is just the down the hall and that he is okay? Her eyes open and once again they fall upon the dried blood on Achilles’s hospital gown. She knows what she has to do to keep her son safe.

Putting on the most solemn face she can muster, Thetis leans forward, and gather’s Achilles once more into a tight hug.

“I… I’m sorry, Achilles.”

She whispers and feels Achilles’s body sink into hers as his hope leaves him.

“Sorry w-why…?”

His shoulders have started to shake and it breaks Thetis’s heart to hear her son’s voice crumbling into despair.

“Achilles…”

She hugs him closer.

“Patroclus is dead.”

Achilles’s worse and only fear comes true. Patroclus is dead. Patroclus is dead and it is all because of him! If only he had went and helped Briseis! If only he had just fought Hector in the first place. If he had just fought him instead of telling Patroclus he would get the police than none of this would have happened. Patroclus would still be alive! He would be smiling with Achilles and drinking wine at the hotel. He would be back on the beach, just the two of them enjoying their days together in the sun. He would be kissing Achilles all over, cuddling with him, caressing him, telling him that he loves him, Patroclus would be doing anything and everything! Anything; except being dead.

Achilles’s wails out screams of sorrow as grief uncontrollably floods his body. Thetis tries to comfort her son by placing her hand on his head to pet his golden lock, but her gesture just ends up reminding Achilles’s of Patroclus, and he pushes her hand away. She looks offended by what he just did and tries to touch his head again, but Achilles’s blocks her hand with his, and doesn’t even bother lifting his head to meet his eyes with hers. His face remains lowered as he speaks and tears dance down his cheeks,

“Go.”

His voice is raw with emotion. Thetis pulls her hand back and shakes her head,

“Is that what you wish, Achilles? Do you really want me to leave you alone in the state you are in? I am your mother. I only want to help you. You know that I love you dearly, Achilles. Just let me-”

Her words are cut off as Achilles’s head tilts up. His eyes are like dark voids; empty and glazed over with the shine of tears.

“Please... just go mother. I wish-”

Achilles’s hollow words shatter into a sob,

“I wish to be alone!”

Thetis stands up at his outburst. The fold out chair she had been sitting on falls down behind her due to her rushed movement and clatters to the floor in a loud crash. Thetis pays no attention to the fallen chair as she reaches out to her son. She can’t leave him like this. He needs her. She has broken Achilles and now she must fix him. She only wants to protect Achilles.

Thetis’s hand brushes against Achilles’s cheek to wipe away one of his tears and is smacked away with a light slap. Achilles’s has just swatted her hand away like a mere bug. Thetis’s feelings of comfort morph into shock at her son’s action and she backs away from him; fuming with anger. She’s worked so hard to protect him and this is what she gets!? She gets slapped by her own son for the death of some pathetic man Achilles’s met only a few months ago? This is ridiculous!

Thetis taps her foot impatiently on the ground, waiting for an apology from her son, yet Achilles’s remains quite. He sits upon the hospital bed, staring emptily at the wall next to Thetis, and breathing soft shallow breaths. Without saying a word Thetis heatedly marches to the door. She opens the door half way, looking back at her son one more time, and then shuts it with a little more force than necessary.

On Thetis’s way out of the Hospital she bumps into Achilles’s doctor. He is a handsome man with black hair and a flashy grin; the man looks more like a lawyer than a doctor and he sends her a small wave as she walks past. Before the doctor can round the corner to the hall he was heading for, Thetis stops in front of him, making him catch his breath as his quick walk around the hospital is halted. 

“Can I help you, Ma’am?”

He asks Thetis with an overly gleeful smile. If she could roll her eyes right now, Thetis would. Men like this are troublesome to her and she can’t stand their extremely chipper attitudes. She does know however that men like this are also easy to trick and she tries not to smile as she grabs his hand.

“My name is Thetis.”

She smiles a fake grin that the man just eats up. His cheeks glow a shade of pink and he tries to keep his eyes from looking at Thetis’s face any longer than he has to.

“You are the doctor who saved my son, thank you.”

The doctor’s face lights up over the compliment and he scratches the back of his head." 

No problem, ma’am. It’s just part of my job."

He nervously laughs and Thetis says nothing. The man catches that she is not laughing along and the air is filled with awkward silence. She lets a small frown form on her face and the man leans in to ask her if she okay just like she expected him to do.

“My son was harmed by another man. I know that he’s an adult now but… I still worry for him. Did he tell you how he was stabbed?”

The doctor shakes his head as a no and Thetis tries to look even more upset than before.

“I’m scared that the man who stabbed my son will try to hurt him again! The man who stabbed my son is named Hector and he had an accomplice named Patroclus. Hector is now in prison, but I have heard news that this man named Patroclus is still in your hospital. Please, could you tell Patroclus that my son is dead? It would mean so much too me for my son to be in a safe environment and away from the men that hurt him. Could you please tell Patroclus that my son is dead so that he will never harm my son again? I cannot bear to see my dear son to be hurt like this again!”

Thetis puts her hands together in front of her; nevertheless the doctor pushes her hands down and frowns.

“Sorry ma’am, I cannot do that. I cannot tell patients about other patients. It could break some very important laws we have here in this hospital. There is no need to worry. I am sure your son will be just fine here. We have very strict security and I do regular checkups every two hours. Anyways, with their wounds I say that your son and that man named Patroclus probably won’t be up and walking for quite a while, so it is unlikely they will even see each other while they stay here.”

Thetis is becoming furious at the doctor, but she refuses to let her anger show. He just needs to tell Patroclus that Achilles is dead so her son can leave in peace. It’s simple! This doctor is just too stubborn to disobey the laws. If being nice is not going to work than maybe something a little bit more solid may help. Maybe a little bribe will get this man to agree with her.

Thetis reaches into her purse and pulls out a hundred dollar bill.

“Please, tell him doctor. Will this help you change your mind?”

She asks and this time the doctor’s cheery grin actually falters.

“I am truly sorry ma’am but… I cannot do this.”

Thetis watches the way the man eyes the money. This man may be honorable, but he is also quite greedy judging by the way his eyes light up at the cash. Thetis sighs and pulls out three more hundred dollar bills. She places the money into his hand and he looks down at the cash.

“Please, will you help, my son?”

The doctor gulps and looks around.

“Yes, of course. I absolutely will Ma’am.”

Thetis grabs one more hundred dollar bill from her purse.

“You are a good man, thank you.”

She slips the bill into his shirt pocket and happily walks away. Patroclus will no longer burden her son. Achilles will be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Achilles... He just can't catch a break can he? Don't worry things will get better in the next chapters. Thank you for reading and look forward to more! :)


	20. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been a few months since the confrontation between Patroclus and Hector. Things only seem to be getting worse for Patroclus and he finds himself living on the streets once more. Anything that reminds him of Achilles only brings him pain and sadly he cannot get the beautiful blonde off his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You better be prepared for some tears and heartbreak because here comes a big storm of depression! Don't worry things will get better soon. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> *Just a WARNING this chapter does contain a masturbation scene so... If you do not want to read that, you are more than welcome to skip over that, and I apologize to you. I try to warn people about sex scenes in my fanfiction and certain triggers. The last thing I want to do is harm you all, however this is a patrochilles story so be prepared for a little bit of sadness and romance.*

Patroclus glumly wanders around the streets wearing nothing but his old worn out hoodie and thin blue jeans; the same clothes he wore when he first met Achilles. His feet are blistered and sore, but he continues to walk aimlessly forward. He stumbles his way through alley ways and hobbles past trash littered river beds with a blank face. Even when his stomach begins to cramp with the ever present pain of hunger he still walks on; unsure of his destination and growing numb to the ache of his joints as he presses onwards.

Patroclus tries not to think about Achilles as he walks. He tries to push the blonde out of his mind as best as he can, but somehow images of Achilles leak into his thoughts like rays of daylight slipping through the cracks of his dark mind. Each memory, each thought, each faint reminder of Achilles, constricts Patroclus’s heart with more pain than he has ever known. The pain hurts worse than his father’s brutal abuse and even Hector’s knife. At one point the memories of Achilles become too much and Patroclus finds himself doubled over on the edge of a street curb puking up what little food was remaining in his stomach. His dry eyes struggle to produce tears from previous crying and he curses empty words into the stagnant city air that fills his noise with the burning stench of stale piss and gasoline.

Patroclus pushes himself up from the curb; wobbling a bit as he tries to regain his balance. He recalls where he was walking to and wipes the vomit from his lips with the back of his sleeve. Just a few more feet and he can rest behind the gas station he knows so well. It is hard to believe that he would be back on these streets again, living next to the same musty dumpster he used to live by, and scrambling to his feet for new scraps of expired gum and pizza. In the distance he can make out the pale red light of the gas station sign and his body shivers in anticipation for the warmth that is provided by the old rug he had collected there many months ago. Although it is still summer, and Patroclus is drenched with sweat, his body feels like ice; his cheeks flushed with a mild fever.

Finally, Patroclus arrives at the gas station and makes his way to the back of the place; scratching his head and not caring about his hair that now looks like a dirty bird's nest. The old, faded green, rusted dumpster is still where he remembered it to be and just a few spaces down from it is the place he used to rest; never a home to him, but at least it was a safe place to rest his head. No one really ever bothers to go behind this gas station and Patroclus is thankful that no one does. It is worse enough that he is living back on these streets, if someone was to jump him in the state he is in now well… he wouldn’t have the strength to run away.

Rain clouds are just now starting to cover the sky as Patroclus slides down the wall of the gas station. He looks up to make sure the small awning created by the roof covers his body and fortunately it still does. The rain steadily falls; small droplets that develop into larger and faster sheets of water. Patroclus tucks his legs in to keep his toes dry. His body shivers more violently now and suddenly he remembers the rug he was looking forward to. His head turns to the left and then the right, looking hastily for the rug that will give him some warmth from this frigid downfall, but it is nowhere to be seen. Someone must have either taken the rug or threw it away while he was gone. In a last resort for warmth Patroclus folds his knees to his chest and falls upon his side. He curls into himself, hoping desperately for his body to produce some heat, and closes his eyes. Maybe some sleep will calm his mind and help pass the time as he waits for the warm morning sun to thaw out his stiff body; however once Patroclus closes his eyes he knows that he has made a mistake and quickly opens them. If he sleeps now… He may never wake up again. His body is too exhausted and too ill to risk sleeping in this rain. He needs to stay awake.

Desperately Patroclus rambles in his mind for a few ways to help him stay awake and is hit with flashbacks of his time in the hospital from just a few months ago.

_Everything is quite except for a strange beeping noise to the left of Patroclus. Of course, Patroclus instantly recognizes this noise as a heart monitor and sits up to examine his situation, but falls back down due to an extreme pain that terrorizes his stomach. His hands feel over stomach, wrinkling the thin material of his hospital gown, and press against several small bumps sewed into his skin; stiches. In a blur everything that has happened to Patroclus comes rushing back to him in a full force panic attack that sends him scrambling to the bathroom where he hurls into the freshly sanitized ceramic toilet; coating the shiny white sides with red bile. His vision grows blurry and the next thing he knows, he finds himself being carried back to the hospital bed he had previously been resting on. His head hits the pillow and he wishes he had some toothpaste for his bitter mouth._  
_A nurse with fire red hair hovers over him checking his vitals and opening his eyes to point a bright flashlight into his pupils. He tries to ask her how he survived Hector’s stabbing, but is met with a harsh glare. Under her breath she whispers something and Patroclus can only make out a faint part of what she says,_  
_“…can’t believe that I am in charge of you… You should be dead… How could you stab someone as nice and handsome as that man called..._  
_The last word the nurse says rolls off of Patroclus tongue in a confused gasp,_  
_“Achilles?”_  
_Why was the nurse talking about Achilles? Is Achilles here? The nurse said Achilles was stabbed? Is that true? What’s going on? Why did she say Achilles? Is Achilles safe? Is Achilles still at the hotel? Is he here?! Where is Achilles? Where is he?! Is he okay? What’s going on!? Where is Achilles!? Why-_  
_Patroclus’s thoughts are pulled away from him as his body begins to convulse with shock. His muscles quiver as he is hit with a small seizure induced by his panic._  
_“Achil-”_  
_Patroclus sobs,_  
_“Achill-”_  
_His body continues to spaz as he continues to try and scream the only thing that matters to him. The only person that has ever mattered to him,_  
_“Achilles!”_  
_His name flies from Patroclus’s lips just as the red headed nurse he met with earlier renters his room. A black haired man with a snow white lab coat is following behind her as she makes her way over to Patroclusz The nurse grabs his wrists with more force than he thought she would have. Steadily she pulls Patroclus’s arms above his head, pinning his body to the bed, and holding him as still as she can. The man with the black hair brings a silver needle into Patroclus’s view._  
_The needle drips with an iridescent trickle of clear medicine that the man with black hair knocks away with a flick of his fingers. Patroclus recognizes this man as a doctor, yet his confused brain keeps replacing this man with the image of his father, and he shouts in fear. A cloth is shoved into his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue and muffles his shouting._  
_“Stay still! This is going to calm you down! You will be asleep for a couple of hours. Can you understand me?”_  
_The doctor’s voice is foggy to Patroclus, but he understands enough to know that he is going to go to sleep soon, and that he will be able to escape the nightmares that are creeping up on him here in reality. Patroclus shakes his head yes and he cries as he feels the sharp prick of the needle under his skin. Suddenly everything is black._

Behind the gas station patroclus opens his eyes. His memories of the hospital pulled him into a light slumber. With a bit of fear he warily blinks at his surroundings and notices that not much time has passed. He has only been asleep for a couple of minutes at least. He needs to stay awake. He cannot risk falling asleep again. Shifting into an uncomfortable position, Patroclus sits up with his head resting against the brick wall of the gas station. He pinches his arm between his thighs. Maybe the pressure of his legs squeezing his arm will help keep him awake? Just in case the pressure does not help, Patroclus digs his finger nails into the tender skin of his arm, clenching the flesh with a tight fist. Memories over take him once more and he slumps down further on the wall.

 _“Where is Briseis? Is she alright? I remember her bleeding and yelling at me. Is she alive? You mentioned Achilles earlier… Do you know where Achilles or Briseis are? Please, I need to know if they are okay.”_  
_Patroclus listens to the sound of rustling plastic next to his bed, pushing himself out of his half-conscious state, and not having to look beside him to know that the red headed nurse from before is changing his I.V._  
_“I have no idea who you are talking about. Did you have a weird dream?”_  
_She states in a huff and Patroclus knows that she is lying._  
_“Please…”_  
_Patroclus begs. He looks at her as she attaches the new bag of fluids,_  
_“Where is Briseis and where is Achilles? What has happened to them? Is Achilles here? Are they both safe?”_  
_His voice trembles at the thought of something bad happening to Briseis or Achilles. The red headed nurse turns to him with the ugliest scowl on her face. Here eyebrows are furrowed with anger and she growls out her words like a cobra spitting venom,_  
_“That man is no concern to you! The doctor told me what you did to him. Men like you…”_  
_She squeezes the I.V bag; halting the medicine from Patroclus’s blood,_  
_“Should be dead.”_  
_She releases the bag._  
_“It’s too bad though… You have a bit of luck on your side. I am supposed to save lives no matter what, so unfortunately you are not going to die on my watch, but just wait until you get out of this hospital you creep. I’m sure your luck will run out then soon enough. As for this girl you call Briseis, she is in a coma all thanks to you.”_  
_Suddenly Patroclus is grabbing the nurse’s arm and a look of terror crosses the nurse’s face. He pulls the nurse down to his eye level,_  
_“Is she going to wake up!?”_  
_His eyes search the nurses’ hazel eyes frantically for a sign, but the nurse just shoves him off and rubs her arm._  
_“Does it matter? You did this to her. There is no need for you to know. In fact you are not even allowed near her hospital room. Security has their eyes on you and I am going to make sure they keep you nice and secure here in this room.”_  
_The nurse points to the security camera in the corner of the room and Patroclus feels his heart beat pick up. The heart rate machine starts chanting a fast paced rhythm of beeps that causes the nurses’ face to light up with an unpleasant smile._  
_“I am glad you are scared. You should be. One wrong move here and you’ll be gone in flash, medical treatment or no medical treatment. This hospital has a name to honor and helping a criminal like you just tarnishes the name. The faster you get out of here, the better for this hospital, and the better for the patients here. I hope the police send you to prison for what you have done! Anyways… The doctor will be here shortly. If you need anything just presses the call button and I may or may not show up.”_  
_The nurse slams the hospital door behind her as she exits the room, only for the door to swish open again. A black haired man enters the room; the doctor who sedated Patroclus._  
_The black haired man pulls up a plastic chair next to Patroclus’s side and Patroclus feels relief calm down his confused nerves. The doctor should be able to help him and answer his questions. Hopefully, the doctor will be able to clear up what the nurse was talking about. Patroclus is not a criminal. He knows he is not a criminal so… why was the nurse treating him like one? Why can’t he see Briseis? Where’s Achilles?_  
_The doctor leans over Patroclus, examining his pupils, bending his arms, and lightly prodding his stomach. When the doctor asks for Patroclus to lift up his hospital gown, Patroclus flinches at the sight of dried blood and orange iodine stained upon his skin, and tries not to fall into another panic attack. The doctor notices Patroclus’s short breathing and asks him to put down his gown and try to relax._  
_“Your body is in shock. Close your eyes and count to ten slowly. Match your breathing with mine.”_  
_The doctor speaks soothingly. Patroclus follows his lead and soon enough his breathing is back to normal._  
_“Thank you.”_  
_Patroclus says, however the doctor says nothing back; merely shifting his eyes around the room and letting out a heavy sigh as he stands up._  
_“For being a criminal you are awfully polite.”_  
_Patroclus eyes widen,_  
_“Why does everyone keep calling me a criminal?”_  
_He asks and at this the doctor's shoulders actually raise in astonishment before lowering back down._  
_“Do you have amnesia?”_  
_The doctor asks and proceeds to have Patroclus tell him his age, name, and various other facts that Patroclus should know. Patroclus of course answers all of the questions correctly, after all he does not have amnesia, he is just puzzled._  
_“Please doctor…”_  
_Patroclus voice is weak and his body is starting to feel tingly from the medicine entering his bloodstream._  
_“Where is Achilles? Is… Is Briseis going to wake up? Why is everyone calling me a criminal?”_  
_He asks; his eyes growing heavy as he watches the doctor brush his hand over his white lab coat pocket._  
_“I find it strange that you have forgotten what you did. Perhaps I should schedule a brain scan to make sure your head is alright? You stabbed someone. You are a criminal because you helped as an accomplice to an act of unjust violence. Although I have just recently found out from the police that there is not enough evidence to prove that you helped with this act of violence, I have heard from a trustworthy source that what you did is true. You seem like a nice young man, however what you did cannot be forgiven. I will treat you as my patient, however do not expect me to treat you with kindness. I will treat what ails you physically and that is all. The girl named Briseis who you also might have helped stab is a in a coma and should wake up in a few weeks or in a couple of months. You are not allowed to approach her room or enter her room for security, due to the fact that it is possible you helped in this crime against her. Now if you will excuse me I have other patients to check on. You are healing well and should be out of here soon.”_  
_Just like that the doctor turns to leave and Patroclus’s heart begins to race again._  
_“Hold on!”_  
_He nearly screams reaching out towards the doctor. The doctor turns smoothly and runs a hand through his thick black hair; his eyebrow rises up quizzically._  
_“Achilles-”_  
_Patroclus pants as the drug from his I.V latches onto his brain and turns his thoughts to static._  
_“I-Is he alright?”_  
_The doctor frowns,_  
_“No, he died shortly this morning. I cannot say if you were part of the cause that led to his death or not, due to the lack of evidence but... If you did lead this man to his death well... I hope you shoulder this burden forever. Once you take a life you can never get it back. I am a doctor and I have lost many lives on my operation tables. I feel regret for each life that I could not save. I hope that you feel upset about this man’s death and never hurt another life again. Now if you excuse me…”_

Patroclus snaps out of his memories and is brought back into reality as a quivering mess of tears. His eyes burn as he hiccups with small sobs against the brick gas station. All he wanted to do was space out until the morning without falling asleep and now he has relived his haunting memories all over again. The whole purpose of him walking around the neighborhood earlier was to help distract his minds from these thoughts, yet these all too real nightmares still plague him. As if the rain understands his terrible mood, it pours down harder, and thunder fills the sky. The storm brushes yellow streaks of lightening across the sky causing Patroclus to jump in fear from his high anxiety levels. He needs to block his thoughts and calm down with something distracting and warm. A coffee would be nice… a hot bath and some soup…. Achilles’s bed.

An image of Achilles’s lips appears in Patroclus’s thoughts and he tries to toss the image from his mind, however the more he thinks about getting rid of the image, the more the image sticks to his brain, and the more he wishes for those warm lips to press against his skin once more.

Patroclus misses those tender, soft, wonderful lips. He longs for Achilles’s steel gaze as he would trace Patroclus’s body with those gentle lips. Here and there Achilles’s warm tongue would dart out and scorch the inside of Patroclus’s mouth with a passionate heat that would have him yearning for more. He remembers the way their bodies melded together on the beach. How their cold skin rubbed against each other with a kindled friction that grew into a burning fire of erotic heat. He remembers how Achilles’s held him that night, so tight and so hot that Patroclus melted in his touch; releasing himself to the sound of Achilles’s heartbeat and breathy moans that warmed his ears.

Patroclus squirms against the brick wall as a needy groan escapes his throat. He had not realized how hard he was becoming and his arm is in a very bad spot between his legs. He tries to move his arm but ends up rubbing his member in the process. The pleasure he feels at the touch sends him into a mental breakdown as more images of Achilles weigh on his mind. He tries not to think of Achilles, but it is so difficult not to.

_“I love you, Pat-ro-clus…”_

Achilles’s voice echoes in Patroclus’s memories and yet again he is forced to remember the night they spent together on the beach. The way Achilles’s hips rocked into his was beyond anything Patroclus could imagine. Achilles’s hands were strong yet careful; mindful and gentle as the caressed Patroclus. His lips were chapped from the summer sun and his body smelled salty from the spray of the surf and sweat that dripped down their bodies.

“Achilles…”

Patroclus whines into the dark storm; biting his bottom lip to the point that it bleeds. His hand moves on its own and rubs between his legs as he pictures Achilles’s blunt nails dragging on his skin, Achilles’s lips moving slowly upon his own and then more fast paced, Achilles’s eyes burning into his, Achilles’s body heating up Patroclus’s body like a firework ready to explode, Achilles hips grinding into his frantically wanting more and more as desperate sounds gurgle from his throat.

“Achilles!”

Patroclus releases the pressure that has built up in his gut and looks down at his mess. Shame devours him,

“Disgusting.”

He mutters; ashamed of what he has just done and rubs his eyes. Not only has he ruined his only pair of jeans but he also just masturbated to Achilles who just died recently. What he did just now… He shouldn’t have done. Achilles is dead and… and…

“Achilles…”

Patroclus lulls his head onto his knees and sobs. He cries until he cannot cry any longer. When his tears stop and his eyes grow dry once more Patroclus begins to screams; He screams into the darkness of the night as the world around him falls apart and reality crashes upon him. He screams and screams and screams until his voice becomes too hoarse to talk and his words are nothing but aching, quite, whispers. He hugs his freezing body, wrapping his arms around himself, and huddles into a tight wad upon the ground. His shattered heart feels like broken glass in his chest as the night draws on and he restlessly turns upon the pavement to stay awake; all the while wishing that Achilles was still alive. Wishing that he could see the light of Achilles’s bright green eyes one more time.

In the dark Patroclus listens to the lonely sound of the rain speckling the city streets only to evaporate the next day. His breath grows soft as his eyes fight to stay awake. It would be so simple for him to just shut his eyes. So simple for him to just fall sleep and fade away into nothing; no pain, no exhaustion, no more nightmares. He could sleep and finally be at peace. He could close his eyes and be with Achilles. He could fall asleep forever but…

“Briseis…” 

He mumbles.

Briseis is still alive! She is alive and Patroclus is waiting for the day she will wake up again. He cannot abandon her. She is his last and only friend. He almost abandoned her once in Hector’s hotel room; the room where he gave up on his life. He had let the shadows of the world consume him and now he must suffer the consequences. He should have continued to fight in that room! He should have stayed awake instead of succumbing to the pain of the blade that pierced his stomach! If only he had stayed awake… He could have saved Achilles. The thunder rolls and Patroclus cries; his loud weeping shrouded by the storm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started to write the next chapter and I will try to have it out as soon as I can. Have patience with me and do something that makes you happy in the meantime! You all deserve a bunch of flowers and silly jokes! Thanks for reading! :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to post anything for this fic on tumblr feel free to with the tag Fic:APlaceToCallHome, My tumblr account for this fanfiction and other TSOA things is called love-war-and-figs. I also have a tumblr account full of other different fandoms called, geekasaur1380.


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